Falling Away From It All
by DayDreamerExtraordinaire
Summary: Olivia. W. Frost is different. She can see things others can't see; this 'mental illness' has made life hell. She believes herself to be mad. A tragic event from her past and life in the Loony Bin have pushed her over the edge. But what happens when you go from madness to sheer lunacy? What happens when she finds the truth? What happens when she has a choice: justice or revenge? OC
1. What Happens When It Ends?

Walking; it's one of those things that over time you end up taking for granted, isn't it? One foot in front of the other, repeat. Easy. Most people moan about it - walking to school on an icy morning, walking up the stairs of tall buildings, taking the over-excited dog a walk when it's wet and muddy outside. We shouldn't moan though, should we? Some people can't walk, they probably dream of being able to do all the those things we moan about. It isn't even that bad; don't you find that the continuous THUD, THUD of your feet on the concrete ground somewhat satisfying? Or are you more of a fan of SQUELCH, SQUELCHING around in your wellie boots? Or how about the soft tap, tap of your feet as you stealthily - or not so stealthily in some cases - tiptoe to the fridge late at night, on a quest to find something to tame your growling stomach? Or even the-

Oops, sorry. I got a little carried away there. I guess when your counting the minutes down until it's all over the silly, mundane things suddenly seem as huge and as meaningful as the moon. I dart my gaze away from my feet to my wrist, trying and failing to find out what time it is; I'd forgotten that instead of wearing my purple watch - a relic from a bygone happy era in my brief life - on my wrist, there was a white medical bracelet encircling it like a cuff. The same sharp, sickly green feeling of guilt wells up inside me at the sight of that medical bracelet. I breath in quickly and dig my ragged nails into my left forearm. Pain - a nasty but effective distraction. Pulling my phone from my jacket pocket, I pressed the unlock button so that the home screen flashed into being. It told me that it was 12:47PM. Only thirteen minutes until I go. Where? I'm not really sure, but I doubt that anyone is. It's one of the many mysteries of life: what happens when it ends?

By now I have passed the busier streets, escaped the hubbub of activity; people barreling through crowds as they are late for very important meetings, long queues spilling out of the cafes and takeaways, school pupils easily identified by their coloured jumpers standing in clusters or causing chaos, cars tooting horns whilst the poisoning the air around them with fumes and old people shuffling on by clutching walking sticks or Zimmer frames. The quieter streets that are closer to my final destination are empty except for the odd mumbling drunk or stray cat. I step around puddles of rainwater and old food packaging, head down. My hood is up, but a few feral curls still succeed in tumbling free. The fluorescent lights of a Fish'n'Chip shop glare at me as I pass by, briefly illuminating my pale face in a ghastly shade of orange. The stench of rotten food and car fumes clogs the damp air, making breathing through my nose almost unbearable. A few more dingy streets and boarded up windows and I can finally see it.

The Bridge.

It's not particularly big, but it is certainly high. Quite a lot of metres until you reach the swirling waters lurking below. The image of The Bridge is permently ingrained into my damaged brain, but the actual real life sight of it gives me a rather strange feeling that I'm not all that fond of; all I do know is that it's filing this feeling, and rather steely grey in colour. My feet don't feel this feeling though. They just keeping plodding onward. One foot in front of the other. Easy.

"Shuffle, shuffle. Clatter, CLANG!" The noises coming from the mouth of the last street I passed through steal my attention. I watch, heart pounding slightly faster than normal, waiting to see what caused the noise. Moments later a small grey figure totters dazedly from the street, a tuft of hair sprouting from it's head and a patched, brown jacket sheilding it from the elements. It's long pointy fingers clutch fiercely around the neck of a brown, glass bottle; there appears to be a few mouthfuls of liquid left inside.

Then, a door flies open and a harassed looking lady comes out. Mobile phone pressed firmly to her ear, she yells about bad business skills and incompetent employees. Without so much as a glance she storms past the little figure, even though he starts trying to trip her up. Of course he fails miserably and just ends up crashing to the dirty ground himself.

Letting out a sigh I turn back to The Bridge and begin walking again, faster than before. The incident with the drunken figure and the lady was enough of a sign and a reminder for me not to change my mind. I don't belong here, I don't see this world the way I should. Everything is all my fault. None of this would've happened if it wasn't for me and my stupid hallucinations. Sick says my mother. Ill says my father. Delicate says my Gran. Some-fancy-word-that-I-can't-pronounce says the doctors. Junkie says the bullies. Strange says the kinder ones. Unique she said.

Mad I say.

My feet come to a halt; I'm here. Taking my hands out of my pockets I use them to grasp the metal railings. I look down. Splashing and gurgling, weaving and bobbing, crashing and pouring. The water charges under the bridge and I watch it with admiration; how wonderful must it feel to be so versatile and so powerful? I pull my phone out of my pocket one last time, it declares it 12:57PM. I quickly flick open the Notes section and hurriedly type. One word, such a small word: Sorry. Then I gently rest the phone on the ground, the police will hopefully find it before some random person has the chance to take it.

I clamber my way up onto the railings so that I'm now standing on them. I turn my head to take a final look at the town. What was once home. I catch sight of my reflection in the metal bar; same light brown cork-screw curls framing the same pale face, same freckles, same nose, same frown - different eyes. Their the exact same colour as always - one startling ice blue, the other a silvery grey - but the emotion in them is all wrong. What happened to the calmness, the sense of security, the confidence? Now their overflowing with grief, guilt, fear and sadness. Regretfully, I trace my look alike's face.

It's better this way. It has to be...

With one last, long breath I throw myself forward. Down, down, down. Several lives could have been lived in those short moments. Splash. The icy water engulfs me, and then there is nothing.

...

I open my eyes to a sea of dancing flowers; some joyous yellow, others shocking pink, a few zesty green and one a vibrant purple. A soft wind sweeps across, carrying the odd leaf with it. The trickle of a calmly flowing river is accompanied by the bzzz of insects.

The afterlife seems peaceful.

"Human, if you want to lie there until a crew of those vile redcaps come through this way and decide to have you for a snack, that is fine. But I would rather not. So if you could kindly move off my tail, I might not feel the need to scratch you too hard."

If you disregard the peeved-off talking cat that is.

**Author's Note!**

**Hello! Thanks so much for reading this, please leave me a review. Any constructive criticism would be great! :)**


	2. Realizations

I have spent many sleepless nights pondering what the Afterlife will be like, or if there is any Afterlife at all (this wouldn't bother me as much as it might bother others - it would be like eternal sleep. Not so bad). Although I envisioned it many different ways, I never really felt that any of them were right. I had pictured stunning angels, dressed in billowing white/ivory robes carrying flowers and harps; but this seemed far too holy and perfect. I had pictured a vast landscape wrapped up in a glittering blanket of snow, my favourite type of weather; but this could already be found on Earth, in the Antarctic or Arctic I had even pictured a grand old house with a massive kitchen, supplied with all my favourite foods; but I'm a very picky eater so no place could ever have all my favourite things in it. Don't think I'm so assured of my goodness that I haven't considered the other options too. There just much more terrifying to think about and often end up in the box in my head labelled 'Nightmares'.

However, never had it occurred to me that there would be an angry talking cat; the appearance of one had me worried that this was all some twisted dream and I hadn't even broken out of the Mental Asylum (Loony Bin) at all - in fact, I was still there concocting wild scenarios in my drug addled brain.

Naturally, to assure myself this wasn't a dream, I pinched my skin. Ouch! Close Eyes. Open Eyes. I'm still faced with the wrath of a fuming, speaking cat. Shit.

"Well?" The cat scowls at me grumpily, extending it's left paw slightly; just enough for me to catch a glimpse of it's sharpened claws. With surprising speed I sit up, allowing the cat to swish it's tail away in annoyance.

"S-sorry..." The condescending glare it's giving me compels me to apologize.

"Hmph! Humans, all the same; ignorant and utterly useless. I had hoped you would prove to have at least some intellect, but alas I was mistaken. Oh well, I am familiar with such disappointment." Looking bored, he begins to lick one of his paws. This pause in speaking lets me get a better look at my surroundings.

A meadow, I'm in a flower filled meadow. Only a few metres to my right a small rivers meanders its way by; flowing leisurely as if it has all the time in the world. Insects I have never seen before flit in front of my face: massive butterflies, wings like stained-glass windows; tiny little flies, blood red in colour; giant gold beetles, their shells adorned with what looks like emeralds; and bold blue dragonflies, actually spouting flames. As if this wasn't enough to convince me I was in some completely foreign place, when my gaze hits the sky above it receives even more evidence. A beautiful hazy pink sky, covered in floating clouds - an evening sky; when I jumped from The Bridge it was lunchtime. I don't feel like I've been unconscious for that long, but to be on the safe side I ask the cat; he must have been here I as long as I have if I was lying on his tail.

"Umm, how long have I been asleep? It's just the last time I checked the time it was lunch, but now I'm ... here, and it seems much later." I'm babbling, but although I've talked to figments of my imagination before there is something rather 'real' about this cat. I haven't ever been in a situation before that required me to converse with a cat, so this is quite a learning curve for me.

On the other hand, chatting to a cat seems almost sane in comparison to dragonflies actually acting like little dragons.

To my shock, and dismay, the cat starts having some kind of fit; I'm torn between being slightly thankful that I won't have to face those claws and thinking that it's a real shame. It's shaking and emitting this strange strangled hissing noise, that reminds me of Abby Johnson - a girl in my music group from before I was adopted and moved to the country - attempting to play the piccolo. That instrument was a heinous torture device in her tiny hands.

"Uh, Cat? You still alive?" I ask the convulsing ball of grey fluff, the tiniest bit of concern coming through in my voice.

Still sputtering, the cat answers, "Alive? Of course! Such a human question to ask..." More torturous hissing, but mercifully quieter now. After a several more moments he regains composure and resumes scowling at me. Terrific.

"Are you ok? I thought you were having a fit!" Annoyance slips into my voice.

"Hardly. That was me laughing at your cluelessness. Barely minute have passed for you since you fell through that trod-" Here the cat nods to the space behind, where the air seems slightly hazy. It feels as though something is there, but invisible. Hiding from me. "soaking wet might I add - and landed on my tail." Here he inserts another glare; some people - cats - just can't take apologies. "Although, as you might have realized you are no longer in your world any more; you are in the NeverNever, and time does not exist in the same way here."

"I'm where now?" My question has a sharper, clearer edge to it than the things I have previously said; but that word - NeverNever - has stirred a memory, an answer. As soon as I try and catch it though, it runs screaming into the dark depths of my head. Gone.

With a long-suffering sigh, he replies, "The NeverNever. It's that land of the fey. Every faerytale ever told exists here, in some shape or form. It is not part of your world, you need to use a trod to get her."

"A trod? Look, cat, this would be a lot easier if you explained things a little slower. Faeries?"

"Yes. Everything from goblins to dragons resides in the NeverNever, this really shouldn't be taking you so long to understand." The cat is talking nonsense; goblins and dragons? He's as mad as I am, he must be a dream... wait, goblins!

"What do goblins look like?"

"Hideous. Small with wrinkly grey skin, they smell rather horrid too."

_...a small grey figure totters dazedly from the street, a tuft of hair sprouting from it's head and a patched, brown jacket shielding it from the elements._

Oh, crap. It's true. There not hallucinations: there Faeries. Everything fits; the goat man following me home from school, the bogey-man in my closet, the floating flames on that camping trip, the black horse snarling at me from the waters surface. All those terrors, all those nightmares, suddenly slip into place. Not hallucinations, not figments of my imagination; they were real live faeries. It wasn't me who set the kitchen on fire, it wasn't me who shoved that boy from my old school into the river, it wasn't me who hurt our pet bunny's paw.

It wasn't me who killed her; it wasn't me who killed Cassidy. It was Them. My different coloured eyes are widened in realization.

"Finally." Says the cat, but I'm not listening; my mind is far away. It's at the archery range on my (adopted) parents estate two years ago.

_It's midday, and the sun shines warmly down on us; two fourteen year old girls. I have shoulder length brown curly hair and I'm a bit smaller. Cassidy is shorter still and has cropped black hair, very slim and constantly grinning. She is my best friend. Today we'd decided to settle an old score; who was the better archer. I_ _obviously believed it to be myself, but Cass felt as equally confident._

_At the moment I was winning, but not by much. It was Cass's turn and she was taking extreme care with her aim (we were both sore losers). Just as her arm tensed and she appeared ready to let the arrow fly, I brought my hands together for a quick, loud CLAP! Cassidy's arrow goes squint, missing the bulls-eye by quite a bit._ _Annoyed at my childish behavior, she faces me and mock-glares._

_"That worried I'll win, Ollie?" She teases, a smirk on her face. For reply I saunter up to the mark, load my bow and take aim. Before I let the arrow zoom onward to the target, I cast Cass a smug look - victory will be mine. She smiles back, not bothered; we're far too close to let a mere archery competition end our friendship._

_But a well aimed arrow to the back of her head _was_ enough to end our friendship. I never got to take that last shot; before I could Cass was dropping to the ground blood pooling around her, framing her in vivid red. I tried to scream, but it was trapped in my throat. The warmth of the sunshine suddenly flees the scene, in it's_ _place is the cold; I've always been immune to it though, now is no exception. I drop my bow and arrow, kneeling down next to Cass and placing a quivering hand on her petite shoulder. What? How?_

_There's laughter and shouts of glee from the nearby woodland; a huddle of little grey men jump around, clapping the one with the bow on his back - praising a murderer. They see me staring, so they start forward. Numb, I give one last glance to Cassidy before I sprint back towards the mansion._

_By the time I'd finally convinced my parents that this wasn't a joke, to call an ambulance and to come help, Cass's body had been torn apart and left scattered. A pinky finger off to the right and an ear off to the left, shreds of blood stained fabric littering the ground like confetti; the gory aftermath of a bomb explosion._

From that day onwards things just kept on getting worse, no one ever looked at me quite the same. There was always that question everyone's eyes, from my family's to the various doctor's and nurse's - How could _this_ girl have done _that_ to her best friend?

I couldn't have. I'd never really doubted that, but other people weren't as easily convinced. A week later I was locked up in the Loony Bin, and it was awful; no one ever visited me on a regular basis, when they did you could tell it was because they felt obliged to - not because they wanted to.

"Human, may I suggest you quit crying and start running." The cat's voice penetrates my thoughts, and brings me back to the colourful meadow. Sure enough, tears are winding there way down my cheeks. This is odd; I haven't cried in a long time. Crying is pointless and ultimately achieves nothing. Crying is for attention seeking sissies.

Crying is for grieving people.

SNAP. SNAP. THUD. THUD.

Footsteps thunder their way closer towards me, and the cat's words finally sink in properly. Start running. I glance around in panic and fear but the fluffy grey mound has vanished. Fuck. Although it had been annoying, the cat had at least seemed to know something about this place. Like possibly the quickest escape route. Jumping to my feet, I realize that I'm still wet from my dive into the water; this isn't good, being wet will just slow me down.

THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD.

As the footsteps get closer, they are joined by some excited chatter. The voices are quite high-pitched, but rough at the same time. I don't know what to do; I've had enough experiences with halluc- faeries, to know most of them are evil.

"This way!" Hisses the cat, appearing for an instant off to my left. I need no further persuasion. Sprinting I dart after the cat; who is kindly flashing in and out of sight up ahead, like a flickering lightbulb. The voices chase behind, but they sound confused and I think this confusion leads to difference in opinion about which way to go. Which then leads to a fight.

The cat leads me into a humming woodland. Trees all gnarled and wrinkly, ivy creeping and twisting over the bark. Roots emerge from the ground with the intention of tripping you up. The canopy above has blocked out the pink sky making everything darker; this in turn makes it almost impossible to keep up with the cat. Almost. He keeps appearing and disappearing. There and then gone. Until finally he stays visible at the base of a tree wearing a dress of ivy. I catch up to him and nearly collapse as my run has left me short of breath. He allows me a moment to refill my lungs before speaking,

"This way. Those vile red-caps won't be able to follow." With that, he pushes his way through the thick ivy and vanishes once more. Hiding behind a curtain of ivy (which looks like it could be poisonous) doesn't seem like a brilliant idea to me, but I have no ideas of my own. So, sighing in defeat, I reach out a hand and begin to push the ivy aside. It moves with reluctance, vines grabbing hold of the tree bark in defiance, but eventually it moves.

There, where a tree trunk should be, is a door frame which holds no door. With a gasp I stumble backward and let the ivy fall back into place. What the hell? A door frame in a tree?

"Reckon the human went this way?" It's one of the voices from the meadow.

"Maybe, I dinny know... No wait! Look there! There she is!" The first voice is accompanied by a second voice, both voices are then followed by their gleeful owners; very small in size, the creatures wear hats on there heads that are painted red at the top. Their maniacal grins are terrifying, and this helps make my decision.

A door frame in a tree over those two faeries any day.

I pull the ivy aside once more. Then I leap through the door frame, eyes squeezed tight shut...

**Author's Note!**

**What do you think? Please review and share your thoughts! :)**


	3. Knowledge Is The Key

I land my leap with all the grace of an overweight hippopotamus. That is to say I don't really 'land' it at all; it was more of a crash to the floor. Shouting out in pain I clutch my aching knee, it took the brunt of my fall. Then I here the condescending ball of fluff taking another fit. Great.

Finished with the inspection of my knee (nothing broken. phew.), I raise my head. Then I let out a yelp of shock; my eyes are now parallel with a stranger's face.

"Oh, sorry! Sorry! But I was just going to ask if you're alright! That, sweetie, was quite a tumble." The voice reminds me of honey, very soothing and golden. The voice along with the face belong to a red-headed girl with pale blue eyes. She is rather tall, but that might have something to do with the fact I'm currently sitting sprawled on the stone floor. She smiles at me and offers a delicate looking arm; with a little hesitation - what if I'm too heavy for her? - I take it. Using some surprising strength, she hauls me to my feet.

"There, now. Much better. That floor sees a lot of foot traffic, so it's not the cleanest. See, look at you! You're covered!" She fusses over my appearance whilst I adjust to my latest set of surroundings. Pots, pans and cooking utensils line the windowless walls; I'm in a large, old-fashioned kitchen. Cakes of all sizes and flavours are stacked on a nearby bunker, and an overflowing sink is situated in the far right corner. In the middle of the room is a sturdy looking oak table, on top of which the cat sits; he is looking at me with equal measures of disdain and amusement. As there are no windows the room is dimly lit by several big gas lamps, each one flickering slightly and casting dancing shadows across the ceiling. The wall opposite me houses a huge fireplace, next to the fireplace sits a bucket of coal and the floor around it is dusted in a light coat of ash. Stools line one of the bunkers, a few of even have a cooking book or two on top of them; this kitchen must have some seriously small workers.

"Are you even listening, honey?" The girl's voice catches my attention.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. It's just... I'm, ummm, new here." Weak reply, I know. But I think I'm entitled to be a little a slow after the events of today.

"Of course you are, but that don't give you an excuse for ignoring me!" I think she's only pretending to be mad, the little smile on her lips says that she's actually finding me quite endearing. "Anyway, what was I saying?" She raises a long, slim finger to her temple.

"You're name, where we are and a warning about Cook. Although I wouldn't bother explaining anything to this one; she isn't the best listener." The cat speaks up.

"Well, excuse me cat if I'm not feeling in a particularly good mood after recent events! Sheesh! Cut me some slack, this place is insane! It's IMPOSSIBLE!" I scream the last part at him, hoping to draw some kind of response. My efforts fail; he just goes back to glaring at me and licking his paws.

"Oh, honey! You poor thing! Take a seat and I'll give explaining things a go." She gently pushes me onto one of the stools and gives me her shawl, it smells lovely - like flowers. "Ready? Right, then. Well I'm Peri and the irritating feline over there is Grimmalkin, sometimes called Grimm. Very apt, don't you think? And as for the where we are, well we're in the Tree of Knowledge. That's in Arcadia, the Seelie Court. And all of this is in the NeverNever. This ain't impossible, honey. It's imagination; everything here is the work of mortals imaginations. It might take some getting used to, but after a while the sight of magic and 'impossible things' just becomes everyday stuff, honey, honestly." Here she pats me comfortingly on the shoulder, before pulling her hand away in disgust when she notices how muddy and wet I am.

"My! What were you doing that got you in such a state?" She sounds genuinely concerned for my welfare, this is strange for me; it's been months since anyone expressed concerns about my well-being.

"I believe the trod she used to get here was under water, although goodness knows what you were doing there, and we ran into some red-caps on the way here." Grimmalkin accounts today's events, but I really don't like the way he's looking at me: like he knows I jumped off of a bridge. I scowl back at him before I thank Peri.

"Uh, than-"

"Oh, no! You're not thankful! You're grateful! Don't ever say thank you to any Faerie, you understand? To us that means you owe someone a life debt!" Not really understanding what she's saying, I just go with it.

"Oh, uh, right. Well, Peri, I'm very grateful. You're a hell of a lot nicer than the furball." As I say furball I shoot Grimm another scowl.

"Course I am!" Peri laughs. "But unfortunately for me, and everyone else in whole bloody NeverNever, I owe Grimm a favour. So I've got to help him out too. Here now, I'll get you some new clothes and then I can see to that knee. Just follow me, honey!" Peri spins around and heads towards a wooden door, before I follow I glance at Grimm; it feels quite rude to just run off without his say after everything he did for me, even if I do hate him. He gives me a nod, then vanishes. I'm beginning to realize that this is a habit of his. Standing up, I turn and follow Peri.

The door leads to a hallway, lined with other doors. We don't go left or right, but straight forward to the door adjacent from the kitchen. Using a tiny bronze key, Peri unlocks the door and walks inside. I follow. We emerge into a circular room that is covered in fabric and clothing. To the left there is another door; I think it leads to a bathroom. In the centre of the room there is a bed and backed up against the wall is a large chest of drawers, each drawer open and clothing spilling out. A sizable mirror is mounted to the wall. Peri strides over to one of the drawers and pulls out piece of clothing after piece of clothing: a red, buttoned shirt; long pink dress, sparkly sequins stitched onto the straps; brown trousers and shorts; a pale blue skirt; and finally a long cream shirt with fine, swirling patterns stitched onto the front. When she pulls the cream shirt out she stops rummaging and turns back to me, smiling.  
"This'll look fantastic on you, honey! Just let me get the dark blue trousers." She then yanks open another drawer and empties about half of it's contents onto the floor before she comes across the correct pair of trousers. She hands me the clothing and then points to the bathroom. "Get cleaned up, then I'll get your knee sorted and some food down you." Still smiling she walks out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Wondering at which exact point of today I descended from madness to sheer lunacy, I go and take a shower.

...

Fifteen minutes later I emerge from the bathroom, victorious in my battle with the shower. It's good to know some things don't change; no matter where you go, be it a hotel or a distant relatives house, it's always a struggle to figure out how their shower operates. Now I'm smelling much less like a wet dog and much more like a fruit bowl. Pulling on the clothes Peri gave me, I turn to look at myself in the mirror. She was right; the clothes do look good me, they fit perfectly. The shirt is soft and comforting to touch, the trousers are practical but still look nice. My hair is soaking though, so I decide to try and find a bobble. Luckily, one has been discarded on top of the chest of drawers; scraping my wet hair back I quickly put it up, out of the way. Peri hasn't left me any shoes, but I prefer walking around in my bare feet anyway.

I close the bedroom door behind me as I leave, then I go across the hallway and step back into the kitchen; which is now filled with creatures cooking and cleaning, burning and baking, chatting and moving. I can see Peri and Grimm sitting talking at one end of the table, oblivious to the chaos around them. Just as I'm about to go over, a large hand grabs my shoulder painfully from behind.

"And what do you think you're doing, missy? You ain't no member of my kitchen staff! I can smell the human off you!" As the loud voice speaks, the owner of it shakes me by the shoulder violently. This causes me to let out a squeal of pain, and then I lash out with my feet. Aiming kick after kick behind. The kitchen freezes and Peri jumps up from the table, furious.

"Cook! Cookie! Leave her alone! She's with me and Grimmalkin!" At this point, Peri has marched over to me and is addressing my captor.

"Oh, fantastic! The talking feline is here! Just give me a minute Red until I bring out the wine to go with the cake!" The voice is filled with sarcasm, you can tell this person dislikes Grimm even more than I do. It must be true, cat's having nine lives; I'm fairly sure Grimm would've been murdered by someone by now if it wasn't. "I couldn't care less who this girl is, I wouldn't care if she's a freaking princess - though I highly doubt that judging by the look of her! Red, just get her and the flea bag out of my kitchen now!" Here Cook releases her grip on my shoulder, I'm positive I'll have a lovely bruise to show for our meeting. Before Peri has a chance to reply I spin around to face the Cook.

She's a lot more intimidating than I'd thought she'd be. At least a head taller than me, with short blonde hair, she scowls down at me. You'd think I was a cockroach or something. A large stained apron with bulging pockets covers most of her front, hiding her red dress from view. On her feet are worn brown leather boots. Her face is the most intimidating of all, sharp bony features she looks more like a cruel super model than a faerie cook. I'm still angry though, I didn't appreciate her grabbing my shoulder like that and questioning me like I was a criminal. Anger conquers intimidation.

"And you're a bitch! I'll happily leave. This kitchen is filthy, it's definitely not something I'd be so proud of!" I lean in closer to her as I yell, raise my head and straighten my shoulders. I despise bullies. They just pick on people who they think are weak; they're nothing but cowards.

Silence. Cook stares at me in shock; she clearly isn't used to being stood up to.

Then, laughter and clapping. Peri throws an arm around my shoulder and barges her way past Cook. Grimm follows, still hissing in amusement from my outburst. The tiny workers - brown skinned and dressed in patched clothing - are the source of the clapping. How lovely, all I did was speak my mind. I catch Cook's expression as we waltz out of the room: an odd mix of both annoyance and admiration.

Once we're about half way along the hallway, safely out of ear-shot from the kitchen, Peri stops and faces me. Her friendly face is grinning and she then leans in to hug me, even though I pull away; I'm a lot of things, but a hugger just isn't one of them. Not that Peri seems to care, she just looks at me and bursts out laughing. It's infectious, I find myself laughing too.

"Oh, honey! That was amazing! Hardly anyone stands up to Cookie, but you sure told her! Ha! Her face was such a picture, that'll teach her!" Peri and me continue to laugh.

"Just remind not to eat anything she makes me; she looks like the type to poison her enemies." I say. Peri laughs and Grimm appears to smirk.

"I wouldn't worry too much; Cookie's mean and a bully, but she likes you I think." At my shocked expression, Peri elaborates,"She likes people who aren't afraid of her, like me. We're actually friends, but don't ever tell anyone that I said that, okay?" I nod, smiling. Cook's a bitch, but if Peri likes her then she can't be all bad. "And anyway, that kitchen_ is_ filthy! Here, just let me take one quick look at your knee then I'll give you the grand tour!"

"Sounds fun." I've never been inside of a tree before, this should be interesting. Peri kneels down and rolls up my trouser leg, causing me to wince. She shoots me an apologetic look before placing her hands on my knee. An icy chill spreads over my knee, numbing it. After a few moments Peri takes her hands away and fixes my trouser leg. No more pain.

"There, all better! Now let's get going, if we want this tour finished before dinner we'd better hurry it up. Grimm are you coming?" Peri asks the cat.

"No, I've seen it all before." With that Grimm turns around and begins to trot off in the opposite direction, then he vanishes.

"Jumped up asshole..." I mutter. Peri smiles, and links her arm with mine. We continue on down the hallway.

"This tree is huge, so I won't show you it all. But some parts of it are beautiful, much nicer than the kitchen." Peri chatters on but my attention has been stolen by the sight in front of me. We've just arrived at a massive circular foyer. They're is no ceiling, instead there is a large spiral staircase disappearing to somewhere above. The floor is a mosaic constructed out of different coloured gems. Vines climb their way up the walls, some sprouting magnificent flowers. In the centre of it all stands an apple tree, a tree within a tree. Peri steers me to the other side of the room, towards a door. She pulls the door open to reveal a complicated looking lever system and several wooden boards, each attached to something by green vines.

"Stand on that." She orders, pointing to one of the boards. Confused, I do as she asks. Peri then fusses around with the levers before finally making her mind up and pulling one. "Hold on tight, okay?" Her smile now looks slightly mischievous, and I'm worried. What is there to hold on to?

Then, with a violent lurch, the board I'm on is suddenly speeding upwards. A scream escapes me and I start to lose my footing. To prevent myself from falling, I grip hold of one of the vines. Terror fills me, but so does excitement. Before I know it the ride is over and I'm stumbling off of the board and onto a landing, laughing all the way. Now that was fun.

Peri comes zooming up from below on another board, keeping her balance without the aid of the vines, and joins in my laughter.

Flying boards are definitely the best way to travel.

Peri steps off her board takes my arm and resumes walking; she never pauses or halts, so I'm assuming she knows exactly where we're going. After a minute or two we arrive at a set of double doors, each one with an impressive handle. She pushes them open and shoves me through, I stumble out onto a balcony. I gasp when I see the view. It's later now, so the sky has darkened, but this only makes the view better. Stars cover the sky like pieces of glitter, and fireflies are dotted around everywhere casting off faint glows. I can see tree tops, my meadow, my river and beyond. Creatures fly across the sky, but I'm unable to discern more than their shadows.

"Wow..." I mumble, awestruck.

"I know, it's beautiful. I love it up here, this is where I come to think." You can hear the smile in Peri's voice as she speaks. We spend five minutes, then ten minutes just standing there and absorbing the spectacular view. Then Peri breaks the silence by telling me she's got more to show me and she pulls me away from the view. She takes me all over the Tree of Knowledge, using as many different boards as possible upon my request: to the basement, which holds all the supplies; to a spare bedroom, basic and simple; to the thinking room, empty and bare; then to the seamstresses work rooms, which turn out to belong to Peri herself; after that she takes me to the school, a collection of small rooms filled with desks and chairs; then finally Peri starts taking me to the Dining Hall. Although on the way there I make her stop, in the corridor we are currently walking down there is a magnificent wooden door. Only there's something rather odd about it. I don't know what though...

No handle! No Keyhole!

"What's in there then, Peri? Looks important." I ask.

"It is. It's the Library of Knowledge - the biggest room in the whole tree. They say you can find any piece of information you want in there. Imagine that! Anything at all!" Peri waves her arms around in excitement, but something she said caught my interest.

"They say?"

"Oh, right. Well, I've never actually been inside; I'm not allowed. I've not proved my wisdom to the Librarian yet." Peri sighs.

"Proved your wisdom?"

"To gain access to the Library of Knowledge one must prove that one has the wisdom to be able to deal with such knowledge. To enter you need to be granted permission by the Librarian." Grimmalkin's bored voice floats into being before he does.

"I take it you're allowed in then?" A slight trace of jealousy sneaks into my voice.

"Naturally." Replies Grimm smugly.

"I wish I could go in..." My sentence trails off at the end as I surrender to my thoughts. What would I learn if I went inside? The meaning of my life? The whereabouts of my real father? The best way to bake a Victoria sponge cake?

Where I could locate the goblins who murdered Cassidy? This thought bursts into my head and it sticks there. Growing and evolving, like some cancerous tumor. Eventually taking over. What _would_ I do if I found them? Carry out justice? Of course!

Take my revenge?

"Come, human, best not to dwell on the possibilities of what you could learn; you have no hope of proving your wisdom to the Librarian." Grimmalkin heads off down the corridor, and Peri takes my arm once more. She smiles sympathetically; she obviously knows the feeling.

"Dinner?" She suggests.

"That sounds brilliant." To back up my enthusiasm for the idea my stomach lets loose a loud growl. Peri leads the way to the Dining Hall, not noticing the dilemma going on in my head.

Seek justice? Or take revenge?

**Author's Note!**

**Thanks for reading this! It means a lot, but it would mean even more if you reviewed it as well! :)**

**What do you thinks going to happen next? **


	4. Only Part Human

The Dining Hall is ginormous; there must be around twenty tables in total, each sitting between six to eight fey. The walls are decorated with paintings and twisting vines, the floor is carpeted in blue grass. And the food! I might hate Cook, but I have to admit that the feast her and her staff have prepared looks and smells fantastic. Huge bowls of salads, cooked birds and hams, bowls of nuts and berries, various types of bread, potatoes and carrots, broccoli and cauliflower, sauces, steaming soups, jellies, ripe fruit and cakes. It would be impossible to taste everything on offer. Almost all of the seats are full; the table closest to me sits a tall, elegant looking woman, a small man with a goat's body and several of those creatures from the kitchen. When the kitchen workers see me they smile and wave, attracting the attention of some of the other fey.

"Come on, you can sit with me at my usual table, honey." Peri noticed the stares I was receiving from the other fey and guessed that it was making me feel quite uncomfortable. She expertly steers us through the hall so that we don't nudge anyone or cause any food spillages. We then stop at a quieter table, there are only a few creatures seated here: another kitchen worker, who looks excited to see me; a small, drunken gnome, I know this because he looks like he belongs in an old person's garden; a glaring Cook, minus her apron; Grimmalkin, looking his usual bored self; and a young boy, only about six or seven years old, who resembles Peri a lot. At the sight of us, he stops slouching and starts using cutlery to eat his food.

"Bean, if I ever see you eating with your hands like that again, you'll never get out of this tree! Am I understood?" Peri admonishes.

"Yes, mummy." Mummy? I turn to Peri shocked; she seems only a little older than myself, and I'm only sixteen. She smiles in reply and goes over and hugs the boy, who promptly goes scarlet and attempts to shove her off. Cook sighs loudly at the pair of them before continuing with her meal, completely blanking me. That's fine. Great actually; our feelings of dislike are mutual. The little brown creature squeaks happily at me, pointing to the chair next to it. Starving I drop into the chair and start filling my plate with all manner of strange things. On my other side is the gnome, and he smells of alcohol and dirt. Lovely. Quiet snores are rumbling from his sleeping figure, a cushion of mashed potatoes for his head. I decide to leave him to his slumber. Picking up a spoon, I start on one of the jellies; this one is yellow and citrus lemon fills my mouth. Yum.

"She's part human! Cool! Can I speak to her Mummy? Can I?" Bean exclaims excitedly, throwing me some not-so-discreet secret glances.

"Bean! Keep your voice down, pumpkin! The whole NeverNever will have heard you!" Peri tells off the little boy and casts me a glance that clearly says 'sorry'. What did he mean 'part human'?

"I can hear you, by the way. And I'm a human, not part human." I speak to Bean, making him blush again.

"But Uncle Grimm just said to Mummy that you were only part human, didn't he Mummy? He did honest!" Bean rambles on, as Peri and Grimm share a look. What aren't they telling me? And what do they mean 'part human'? I'm human, that's all!

"Boy, for the last time I am not your uncle. Olivia believes herself to be human, but she isn't; at least not fully." Grimm looks at me as he says this, along with everyone else who is awake at our table. What? The cat is clearly spouting nonsense. He must be.

"Grimmalkin, I hate to disappoint you further, but I'm human. All human. What else could I possibly be?" I look at everyone in turn as I speak, trying to convince them all of my humanness. I don't know if it's working; Cook especially is giving me a funny look and Peri won't even meet my gaze. "Just human." I repeat; it's as if the more I say it, the more likely it will be true.

"We shall see." Says Grimm, putting me in a hideous mood. I'll show him! Before I have the chance to start shouting however, Peri's plate clatters to the floor; the little kitchen worker instantly reacts, jumping down from it's seat and beginning to tidy up the mess.

"Bloody workaholic brownies..." Mumbles Cook as she sips from a glass of wine. So that's what those creatures are: Brownies. I turn back to start shouting at Grimm in an attempt to defend my humanness, but he's gone. Coward. I decide to take out my anger on the vegetables on my plate, stabbing them harshly with my fork. The table descends into quiet, the only sound is the constant chatter from other tables and the gnome's snores.

Then, music starts; a group of fey on the other side of the hall have gotten themselves some instruments. It's beautiful this music, but also sad. Mournful even. It reminds me of Cass, of how she died far too soon. Of how'll she will never get to grow up, always frozen at the age of fourteen.

_"Ollie, what do you want to be when you grow up?" Cass is sitting on my bedroom floor and carefully painting her toenails a dark purple, the same colour as my carpet; they blend in with the carpet like a chameleon would. Spread around her are various sweet wrappers and cans of fizzy juice._

_"You mean like a job? I don't really know, I mean, I'm crazy right? Who employs crazy people?" Well, it's true!_

_"Olivia Willow Frost, how many times must I tell you? If you think you're mad, then-"_

_"Everyone else will think I'm mad too. Yeah, yeah. I know!" I finish her sentence, and she looks ready to start one of her 'your unique, not mad' speeches again. Crap. I need to distract her! "So, anyway what do you want to be when your older? Famous athlete? Astronaut? Beautician?"_

_Cass smiles, then shakes her small head. "No. I want to be a doctor, or a vet. Something where I get to help people." At my that-is-so-cheesy-and-you-know-it look Cass continues, "And cutting up bodies, that'd be a bonus too!" This makes me snort with laughter_,_ which makes both of us laugh even harder._

Poor Cassidy; she would've grown up and done something worthwhile, instead she was murdered and eaten. Why couldn't I have been the one who got hit with the arrow, I'm a waste of space. Hatred boils up inside me, along with sorrow.

"Olivia?" The voice is quiet and shy, it's Bean's.

"What?" I'd zoned out again.

"You're crying, why are you crying? Is it because of what Uncle Grimm said?" Shit. He was right; I was crying. That was twice in one day, not good. Furious with myself, I rub the traitorous tears away quickly. Not quick enough; Peri sees. She comes and sits next to me, shoving the gnome to the floor and waking him up in the process. He grumbles and swears, much to Bean's amusement.

"Honey, everything okay?" I look at her face - it's got concern plastered all over it; this makes me cry harder. Peri shushes me and wraps an arm around my slim shoulders, a one armed hug. I don't know what's wrong with me, I really don't; I never show this much emotion. Peri keeps on holding me until my tears stop and I pull away gently. I shake my head back and forth to try and rid myself of the emotion. It doesn't work.

"Sorry. It's just, phew... Everything's catching up with me." I'm embarrassed by my display of grief. Peri just looks at me like knows that's not everything. Damn. She's just far too good at being motherly. Once I start spilling my guts, I can't stop. The whole table ends up hearing my tragic life story, from beginning to this very moment.

I tell them about my real father, and how he was just gone one day. Then I tell them about the social services and getting adopted. About my new mum and dad, about Cassidy. About how I once loved playing the flute, until I realized that it attracted what I thought to be hallucinations. I tell them about new schools and old ones, sports clubs and archery lessons. I talk about my adopted granny, and her gingerbread cookies. I talk about my favourite pair of trainers, and how I once believed that they were lucky. They hear about Louis my pet rabbit, now passed. I tell about Cass's death and the Loony Bin. I tell them about my decision. The jump. Waking up in the NeverNever. When I finish half the Dining Hall is listening to me and Grimmalkin has reappeared, for once not looking bored. I should be embarrassed, annoyed, upset.

Instead, I'm relieved; I finally got it all off my chest.

Peri keeps her arm around me and Bean jumps into my lap, hugging me tightly. It's nice, having people care about me.

"It's not right, what happened to Cass." My voice is poisonous, filled with hateful venom.

"We know, honey. But can you do now?" Peri tries to comfort me.

"I want to find her murderers. I want to find those goblins! They should have to pay!" My voice grows louder. My words have caused several of the assembled fey to exchange looks and nod their heads; my story has moved some of them. Good.

"Now. Now. You be serious! What are you going to do? Hunt down those goblins yourself and carry out justice?" Peri voices her confusion and worry.

"Yeah, Mummy! Let's get the goblins! Bad goblins kill Ollie's friend!"Bean agrees with me, and his agreement persuades a few of the others to join in.

"I had a cousin, murdered by goblins she was. Poor Rosy..."

"Menacing looking, those goblins!"

"I'm missing a finger thanks to them!"

I turn to Peri. She is looking at me with concern. "Please, Peri. This is the _freaking_ Tree of Knowledge! Surely you can get someone to help me find out where they are? I just want justice, Peri. Honest."

She sighs, "Fine. I'll help. But stop dragging the fey here into your problem, you understand? This is something I will help you with, and maybe a couple of others of _my_ choosing, but that is it! Okay?" She raises an eyebrow and stares me down; I won't dare disagree with her.

"I'm grateful, Peri." I thank her as best as I can.

"I'll come along, I think. You are proving at least to be mildly amusing if nothing else." Grimmalkin invites himself, of course. Ignoring him I take Peri's hand and squeeze it, she smiles back. The gathered crowd let out a small cheer; they're all on my side and want to help, even if Peri has forbidden it.

Then, from the gathered crowd, a brownie appears; in it's outstretched hands is an instrument. It's stunning. Silver with small, intricate patterns gently carved into it. It's a flute. The brownie comes to a stop in front of me, offering the flute. I decline by shaking my head; it's been far too long.

"Give it a go, pretty girl! Please!"

"We want to hear!"

"Play us a song!"

Shouts come out of the crowd, begging me to play.

"You know, you must be half decent if it was attracting faeries when you used to play it." This comes from Cook, shockingly. Is she being nice? Nodding at the flute, she motions with her hands for me to pick it up.

I do.

I don't play a song I've played before, but that doesn't make it a new one; it feels like this song has been trapped inside me for ages, waiting to be let out. I don't need to think about what I'm doing it just flows, pure emotion. It's about Cassidy. How her death makes me feel; all the sadness, all the guilt, all the hatred. I play for forever; I play for only seconds. My fingers fly across the instrument, they never forgot the feeling. I end the song with a long, powerful note; it's not finished, it's nowhere near complete, but it's all I've got the energy for. I'm shattered.

And so, apparently, was everyone else.

The Dining Hall is now dusted in frost, like the layer of icing sugar on a cake, and an icy chill sweeps through the place. All the fey are asleep, lying where they once stood. What happened? I'd stopped paying any attention when I'd started playing.

"Unseelie glamour..." Peri mutters from next to me, before her eyes drift closed and she slumps. Asleep.

"I told you we would see." This from Grimm, who appears to be wide awake and cleaning his paws.

"Wait, what do you mean? I didn't do this, did I?"

"Yes, you did. You just wielded a fairly powerful glamour. Like I said earlier your only part human; your three parts Unseelie fey." To prove his point, Grimm indicates with a paw to a spoon. I snatch it up, discarding the flute on the table. Hurriedly, I put it in front of my face.

Same eyes - one icy blue, the other silvery grey - but different features. Pointy nose, sharper cheeks. Protruding from my curls are two pointed ears. My skin is even paler looking, it's almost chalk white now. I glance around the room, anywhere but my reflection, and see the layer of frost covering everything. Fuck.

I'm part human, part faery. How did I miss _that_!?


	5. Memories

"I'm so sorry, Peri! I didn't mean it, I swear!"

Peri gives me a smile and raises her hand for quiet. She still looks as though she could drop to the floor asleep. Grimm trots into the room behind her, heading straight for the bed.

"Honey, calm down! You'll turn your hair grey with the worrying your doing!" She gives me a stern look."So, Grimmalkin was right. You are fey, Unseelie fey. I know what you did was an accident, and I'll get it sorted, quit fretting, but you need to stay in this room until I come back and get you, okay?"

"What? Why? Peri let me go back downstairs and I can try and help you wake them! I put them all to sleep, I should be able to wake them all back up!" I try and force my way to the door but Peri prevents me with an arm.

"It's not that. We're Seelie fey here, and Summer fey hate Winter fey. It's just the way it is. You go back down there before the Librarian or I can explain, you'll be in some serious bother, honey."

"Listen to Peri, Part-human. She speaks sense." Says Grimm, ever helpful.

"I've not even met this Librarian, how can they say if I'm good or not? And you don't hate me, do you Peri?" I say, confused and upset.

"He just knows, sweetie. Right? I don't know how, but he does. And your right, I don't hate you. But I will if you keep arguing with me." Peri gives me a look similar to the one she gave Bean earlier. My shoulders slump, defeated. "I know, I know. But it's not all bad! Look try and get some sleep, okay? There should be a change of clothes in one of the drawers. Grimm will probably stay. Although I don't know if that's necessarily a comfort." Peri squeezes my arm and then leaves the room, locking the door from the outside.

Trapped in a room with Grimmalkin. Splendid.

Sighing, I survey my prison. The room isn't too big or too small; it's more medium-sized. Wooden floor, partially covered by a round green rug, and one window; the nighttime sky just visible through the foliage outside. A single bed stands in the corner; Grimmalkin has already made himself comfy. The space next to the bed is occupied by a bedside table, which holds a lit lamp. Like Peri said there are drawers, and one does hold some nightclothes. I tell Grimm to vanish or something while I change, to which he snickers and says that he isn't interested; it's not that I thought he was, it's just weird having him sit there while I change. Thankfully though, he does turn the other way.

Once I'm changed I pull the quilt off of the bed, mainly to annoy Grimm, but also so that I can lie down; it's been an exceptionally long day and I'm exhausted. The quilt would just make me too warm. Resting my head on the soft, lilac pillows I can feel Grimmalkin jump back up on to the bed and curl up in a ball. Looks like all-knowing cats get tired too. Who knew? I didn't think that I'd be able to fall asleep like Peri suggested, but I guess all of today's running around has left me worse off than I thought; a few minutes later I'm sleeping like the dead.

...

_"Daddy! Daddy! Come look! Quick! Before it runs!" I squeal, desperate for him to see this; a large, glossy black horse standing in the middle of our back-garden. I bob up and down on my impatient feet, eager._

_"What is it? Ollie darling what's wrong?" His familiar voice is panicked as he comes into the garden to find me._

_"Nothing wrong, Daddy! Look! Look! A horsey, Daddy! A horsey!" I grab his arm and try and pull him towards the horse. Of course I don't mange to; he is far stronger than me._

_"No Ollie, don't! Stay here!" With rather painful force Daddy pulls me back towards the house. Then he shoves me through our back door, despite all my protests and wails. He closes the door with a THUNK! before returning his attention to the horse. All I can see as he approaches the creature is the back of his head, covered in the same curly brown hair as mine. Why won't Daddy let me see the horsey? Why did he look so scared?_

_Suddenly, a large icicle appears in his hand; it is spear like in size and shape. With it he frightens the horsey and scares it away. When he comes back inside, looking angry and very worried, he comes to hug me. I don't let him; instead I run for the stairs, screaming at him for scaring away the horsey._

_I must have fallen asleep in my room, because the next thing I know I'm waking up and it's very dark outside. Creeping over to my window, I make out the outline of The Bridge; it looks more imposing in the dark. Hungry and upset about my fight with my Daddy, I decide to go downstairs and find him and some food. However, I stop at the top of the stairs; there are people downstairs talking, one of them is definitely a stranger._

_"You can't hide her forever, Thoryn. You hate this world, even though your half-human. You're going to slip up, and then I'll take your precious daughter back to where she belongs; back to her mother, back to the Unseelie Court. Ha! Then they'll have to let me back, forget my exile." The stranger's voice is chilling and confusing. Why is he threatening Daddy?_

_"Forget it Jack! My daughter stays with me; the Unseelie court will ruin her. You know it will. Yo__ur father would be so disappointed, Jack. So very disappointed." My Daddy speaks back, not sounding at all scared but incredibly angry. He knows the stranger. What did he mean 'your father'? _

_"That's a low blow, even for you. Not to worry, I expected you to be stubborn, so I came prepared; you'll be gone soon Thoryn. Then I'll take your daughter and get my reputation back. Nobody pulls one over on Jack Frost and gets away with it! Not even you!" There is a loud CRASH and the sound of glass smashing. Did the stranger just leave? Frightened, and believing all of this to be a nightmare, I hurry back to room and hide under the covers._

_..._

_The first morning rays seep through my curtains and wake me. Believing the night terrors to be over I run out of my room and into my Daddy's. I'm greeted with his empty bed. Nothing seems wrong, he must just have gotten up early and went downstairs. Hurrying downstairs I call out, but am rewarded with no response. The house is quiet, eerily so. I dash into our kitchen, then I yell out in pain; I just stepped on a piece of broken glass. Red instantly pools on the floor, joining the other pieces of jagged glass. Oh, no! Where is Daddy?_

_"DADDY! DADDY!" Still silence. Now I realize something is wrong. Now I realize that my Daddy isn't home. Tears pour down my face in floods._

_Hours later, a policeman and a chubby lady dressed casually arrive. They take me to the hospital and ask me lots of question, but I hardly answer any of them. That was the last time I'd ever see my house and my Daddy._

_..._

_"They're lovely people, Olivia Willow, and I want you to give them a chance. You hear me?" Fiona, my care worker, is having a final word with me before I arrive at my new family's house. I'm nervous, sickly so. I'd already met Carla and Henry before, and Fiona was right; they were lovely people. That's what worried me. _

_What did two perfectly normal people like them want with a damaged child like me?_

_Then, the estate comes into view. My word! It's massive, sprawling green grass flecked with clusters of woodland. Sitting proudly in the middle of it all is a house - no a mansion. All old-fashioned brick work and gargoyles. Fiona lets out a sound of admiration. This is followed by a look that says 'don't mess this opportunity up, Ollie. It's a once in a lifetime.' She's right, but I don't really want a big fancy home; I want my father, but he's gone. I hope Carla and Henry don't replace him, I hope they just become a new edition to the people I call family. Taking their own places, not struggling to fill anyone else's._

_Fiona drives the car right up to the front entrance. There stand Carla and Henry, both look even more nervous than I do. Looking to Fiona for encouragement - she nods, I get out of the car and walk over to them. Carla can't contain herself; she wraps me up in a fierce bear hug. I normally hate hugs, but once I get over the fact that I can no longer breathe, this one isn't so bad. Henry smiles at me and offers a hand-shake, he obviously isn't much of a hugger either. I don't mind, to me that's a good thing. Fiona places my suitcase and my belongings on the ground next to me. I look at her and she's crying; we've known each other for two and half years now, this goodbye is going to be hard._

_She doesn't hug me, thank god! Instead she leans over slightly so we're the same height and smiles weakly._

_"You'll just get mad at me if I drag this out, won't you? So I won't, okay? But... If you ever need anything, not that I think you will, you know where to find me. Right? Bye Olivia. Bye." She keeps crying as she follows Henry into the house to complete the final pieces of paperwork. By the time I come back from putting my belongings away, she'll be gone. I know she will._

_"Bye, Fi! And... Thanks..." I say the last part too quietly for it to be audible, but I like to think that she heard me._

_"Come on, then Olivia! Let's get this stuff upstairs to your new room! I haven't chosen a colour scheme yet, but as soon as you pick it we can call the decorators!" Carla grabs my suitcase and a bag, before she heads for the stairs inside._

...

_"Olivia, why don't you go and sit next to Cassidy? She can show you around at break time too!" My new teacher, Mrs Petterson, points to the only empty chair in the whole classroom. The girl in the chair next to it is small, with shocking dark hair and a wicked grin. I'm scared. Starting a new school always feels this way, give it a few days and the excitement of my newness will wear off; then I'll become the silent, misunderstood loner of the class._

_"So new girl, what do think about spiders?" I've been sitting next to Cassidy for barely a minute when she springs this question on me. Spiders?_

_"Uh, there okay. Pretty ugly, and kinda creepy, but I like their webs. There cool!" Oops, I was probably meant to say something like 'Spiders! Eww!'_

_"Finally, someone like me! You'll love this!" Then, from her pocket, Cassidy pulls out a very tiny tub, with very tiny air holes in it. Oh, dear. I think I know where this is going._

_Under a minute later one of the other girls is jumping out of her seat and screaming madly. The spider sits frozen on her desk. Cassidy is in fits of laughter next to me, and I'm about to start laughing too until I see the teacher's face. Cassidy gets sent to the headteacher's office for her trick, so she can't show me around at break. I'm not fussed; today's been the best first day of school already. Why? As just before she left the room Cass turned back to me and said,_

_"I like you new girl, your my new best friend."_

_"What happened to the old one?" I said back, Cass just grinned evilly._

...

_"Mum, I am NOT going to play! It's too scary! Have you seen all the people, there's, like, a million of them!" I protest loudly. My new Mum doesn't seem to understand the embarrassment of playing my music in front of so many people. _

_"Ollie, quit complaining. You play that flute brilliantly! You're a genius!" Mum smiles at me, trying to bring me out of my foul mood._

_"No I'm not! You cannot make me play! You cannot MAKE ME PLAY!" I've completely lost my temper now, and I'm shouting. Mum looks hurt, which makes me feel crap; when did I turn into such a spoilt brat? "Sorry..."_

_"Ollie, I just-" She stops; somethings distracted her outside. I look. It's snowing._

_It never snows here in June. It just doesn't happen._

_"Wow... That's odd." It was only a light flurry, then nothing. The snow shower had lasted barely seconds, fading away as quickly as my anger had._

_"Olivia Willow Frost. Flute." One of the organizers calls. No more stalling. Crap._

_"Go! You'll be fine!" I hope Mum's right._

_Once I'd finished playing the whole audience stayed silent, frozen it seemed. Then applause, lots of it. I grin from ear to ear. Mum was right; I had been fine._

_The real shock came when we tried to leave and found the car park transformed into an ice rink. On our skate back to the car, I see eyes peering at me from the nearby trees. Their gaze is unwavering and strange, like it's familiar yet new all at the same time. _

...

_Doctor Jones was my favourite; she at least pretended to treat you like a sane a person. She comes in to my room and smiles, then proceeds to straighten out my quilt and plump up my pillows. This is not good. If she's silent it means it's happened again._

_I should be used to it by now, it has been almost two years, but I'm not. Every time I hope they're coming, but they never visit unless it's my birthday or one of the doctors think I'd benefit from it. Doctor Jones's silence has just confirmed what I already knew; that they'd declined my request for them to come and visit yet again. I should be screaming, crying, asking questions, making excuses for their lack of care. Instead I'm numb. Jones tries to engage me conversation, but fails. I just look at her and silently beg for her to leave. She does, but as she walks away her footsteps are filled with worry._

_I realize that I don't blame Carla and Henry for pretending I don't exist, that I wasn't their daughter for three years. From what I'd gotten out of them at their last quick visit five months ago, they'd adopted another child. I didn't get their name, or even if they were a boy or girl. The memory still feels like someone twisting a knife around my gut: painful._

_This latest let down did it, made up my mind. I had to get out of here. Away from the confining walls, the rainbow coloured pills, the shouting people, the crying people, the white coats and even worse the zombies; the zombies being the people who'd been given one to many drugs, the people who nobody cares about, the people who've been here far too long. I didn't want to end up like that. I just wanted everything to be over._

...

_My feet hit the soft grass on the other side of the fence; it might just be the lighting, but the grass really does look a shade or two greener here. I'd did it. Escaped. It was up to me what happened now, and I'd already decided._

_I was going to find out what happens when it ends. I was going to jump. I was going to kill myself._

...

I wake with a start. The sky outside has turned from midnight blue to early morning pink. Sighing I flop back against the pillows. Grimmalkin observes me from his spot on the bed.

"I think you know more about me than I do, Grimm." I say gloomily.

"I do know more about you than you do - but you, foolish part-human, don't know very much." He then closes his eyes and appears to fall back asleep. Irritating flea-bag!

A day ago I believed myself to be human, and completely mad. Now I'm part faery and unsure whether or not I'm a lunatic. Life just seems to have it in for me.

**Author's Note!**

**Thanks for reading this far! Hope you liked the insight into what Olivia's life been like. Please, please review. I'd love to hear your thoughts! :)**


	6. Problems and Solutions

"Ignore them and they'll stop." Peri whispers to me as we walk down a hallway, glaring at the fey who are shooting me suspicious daggers. I'm officially the most hated person in the Tree of Knowledge now due to the fact I'm Winter Fey, or at least part Winter fey. What an accomplishment.

Although they won't dare lay a finger or paw on me. Not since the Librarian told them not to. I was shocked this morning when Peri returned to my room, happily informing me that the Librarian had said I'm welcome to stay here as long as I need. For someone who I have never met, I sure do you owe them big time. I wonder where the Librarian's kindness towards me comes from? It's certainly not a mutual feeling among the fey here; I can't step foot in the Dining Hall now for fear that someone will magic a vine to coil around my neck and strangle me. I had to go to the kitchen for breakfast, where Cook was surprisingly nice to me - she only gave me a couple of insults. No extra nasty treatment just because it turns out I' an enemy fey. I should be so lucky!

Along with Cook, only the fey who I sat with at dinner last night and the brownies seem to act normally around me. Oh well, it's not as if I'm not used to being the outcast.

"This way, Honey, we can borrow one of the classrooms for our planning." Peri leads me down a hallway I recognize, we traveled through it during the tour. Opening and pulling me through a series of doors, we eventually end up in the correct classroom. It's covered in paintings, clearly created by the hands of children. Desks are arranged in rows facing a blackboard at the front of the room, vines frame the blackboard in leafy shades of green. Old books line a shelf on one of the walls, some so tattered the appear close to falling apart. Grimmalkin sits atop one of the desks, using a paw he holds open one of the books. Underneath the book sits an old, faded map.

"So, any ideas?" I ask.

"Honey, we've only just started searching! Give it a little time!" Peri demands some patience from me, but I've been patient for far too long.

"There's got to be a rough area where goblins live in the NeverNever, right?" At Peri's nod I continue, "So? What are we waiting for? Take me there now and I can go hunt them down!"Angry, my voice becomes louder.

"Look, Honey-" Peri is cut off by Grimm.

"This plan of yours is fantastic, part-human, except for a few small details. Such as the fact that the place where the goblins live is the Wyldwood, which is vast, dangerous and ever changing. There are also a lot more than just one tribe of goblins, finding the correct one would be near impossible. Then, if you are lucky enough and alive enough, what will you do? You can't control your glamour, and since we're in the Seelie Court there is no one able to teach you how to, and you have no weapon; the goblins would just tear you limb from limb." Grimm glares his disapproval at me. Now I'm beyond angry; why does the cat always have to be right?

Despondent, I turn to look out of one of the windows. I think Peri tries to suggest some more options, but I don't listen; I'm far too busy thinking over what Grimmalkin said, trying to figure out a plan, remember any insignificant detail from my past that that might help. Nothing except pain and hurt. I let out a scream of frustration. My hands grow icy cold, so I glance at them and gasp; they are covered in shards of ice.

Panicked, I shake my hands around wildly. This causes the ice to fall off my hands and shatter around me on the floor; you'd think I'd just dropped a glass bottle. Grimmalkin gives me a condescending scowl and Peri reaches out to try and calm me, but I don't want her comfort. I want quiet and time to think things through properly. I should try and focus on what I'm going to do.

I need to formulate a plan.

Seeking solitude I flee from the classroom, then head for the nearest lever and board system. Zooming upwards three floors, speeding downwards seven floors, a dash along a corridor, more zooming upwards, another hallway, and then the doors; the doors that lead to Peri's balcony. I force them open and slam them shut, before collapsing into a sitting position upon the floor.

Ahhh, space to think.

...

A good hour or so later and my realizations are as follows: Grimm's right - I don't have a weapon; I'm hungry; this place is completely foreign to me and, from what I've seen so far, pretty dangerous; I might not even recognize the goblins if I were to see them again; I really need to find a pair of shoes, my feet are beginning to get sore from me walking around barefoot all day; and, most importantly, I don't have a clue who I am anymore.

Jumping off The Bridge was meant to end all my problems; instead it's only succeeded in creating new, far worse ones.

Feeling hopeless I get to my feet, determined to at least solve one of my problems: hunger. It takes me awhile, but eventually I end up in the huge foyer. Walking quicker now that I'm sure of my direction, I hurry across the room towards the hallway that leads to the kitchen. However, the big apple tree in the centre of the room makes me pause and my stomach rumble; those shiny red apples look incredibly tasty. Edging closer I notice that there, on the lowest branch, hangs a particularly delicious looking apple. If I stood on my tiptoes I'd be able to pluck it from the branch. I do just that.

Sighing in pleasure, I take a huge bite. CRUNCH! The sweet taste of apple explodes in my mouth. Smiling, glad to finally have solved one of my issues, I go to take another bite. Then, WHAM! A memory, and thus a solution, materializes in my head._ The goblin who wielded the bow and arrow - the one who murdered Cassidy - had a large scar across his face; a straight diagonal line,starting at his left temple and ending just right of his chin._

I stare, dumbfounded, at the apple in my pale hand. Did I just eat my way to a solution? Surely not? To be sure, I take another bite. Nothing. Just the tasty mouthful of apple. Freaked out slightly by my very convenient realization, I finish the apple. It was good, better than good. So good that another one magically makes it's way into my hands. Yum! Happily, I begin to eat my second fruit.

WHAM! Another realization, this time about my lack of weaponry._ Arms tense, focused. Target visualized. Strong Stance. I let the arrow fly; It lands dead centre._

I'm good with a bow and arrow! How could I have disregarded that? That counts as a weapon.

It's the apples, it's got to be! Jumping up to try and grab myself a third one, I don't notice Cook emerge from the kitchen hallway. Big mistake.

"What, freak, do you think you are doing? You can't just eat those apples like you do the ones from a fruit bowl! They are Answer Apples, and only the Librarian himself can give them away!" Cook's voice is mad, and she scowls at me. Nothing new there then. It's more the fact that her little entourage of Brownies aren't smiling and waving at me, like I'm some celebrity and they're my adoring fangirls. They just stare at me in horror. Crap, I've done it now!

"Quit spitting in my face, Cook! I didn't know these apples were so precious!" Cook lets out a harsh laugh in the face of my fury.

"No of course you didn't. You don't know anything, about anything. Not to worry though, once the Librarian hears that you ate _two_ of his Answer Apples without permission and for completely selfish reasons, you'll be gone. Good riddance!" Cook smirks evilly at me, and I can't hold in my rage any longer. It erupts from within like a volcano.

"Just leave me fucking alone! What have I done? I've got enough on my plate without you jumping down my throat too. JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" Cook looks fearful as I step closer, fist raised. Just before I smack her bony face, I notice the jagged icicles covering my fingers. Each one is as sharp as a dagger, and just as deadly looking.

I pull my fist away, rage gone. What's happening to me? I mean sure I've had a rough couple of days, but that doesn't give me any reason to go around shouting and smacking people. Confused and terrified of the stranger I am becoming, I let the ice drop to the colourful floor. Then I too sink to the floor. I don't cry or yell, I just put my hands on my head and try to figure out what's happening. Cook's and my audience of Brownies titter and chatter, eager for the next dramatic events to unfold. They will be disappointed.

"Quit acting so pathetic and human. Get up. C'mon, I said get up!" Cook bends down and pulls me to my feet. Once I'm standing facing her, she shakes me gently at the shoulders. "Stop moaning. So life's a bitch. Deal with it! Everyone else does." I think this is Cook's weird version of a pep talk.

"Easy for you to say; you're not the one who's going to get kicked out for eating some Ans-Answer Apples! Whatever the hell they are!"

"Answer Apples: they allow a person to clearly see the solution to a problem, just so long as they know the answer already but can't quite grasp it. And I exaggerated a little. The Librarian won't kick you out, he'll probably just make you teach the children for a day; although to be perfectly honest, that is a really effective punishment. Those things are terrors!" Cook doesn't smile at me, but she doesn't glare either. We seem to be finding some common ground to stand on, or are at least walking in the direction of some.

"It's not only that. Grimm and Peri were right; I don't have a chance of finding those goblins, do I?"

"No, you don't. At least not with that attitude and bare feet. But you know what, freak? I hate the flea bag, nothing would give me greater pleasure than slow cooking him in one of my stews. However, since that seems unlikely, I'm willing to settle on option two."

"Option two?"

"Prove him wrong. So if I help you figure out where those goblins your after are, and then you go and kill them or whatever, you'll be helping me out a great deal. I also won't mention the Answer Apples. A sort of bargain, if you like. What do you say, Freak? Want some help?" Cook raises an eyebrow in question. I could use her help with finding a bow and arrow. Perhaps she knows the 'Wyldwood' too?

"Fine. I accept." We shake hands, bargain (of sorts) made.

"Then lets get your feet some shoes." With that she turns and storms through the gathered Brownies, scattering them as a bowling ball would bowling pins. She then strides off down a hallway, not once glancing back to make sure that I am following her.

...

I'm sitting on a stool that would've been far too small for me four years ago, let alone now. Empty glass bottles occupy almost every surface, from the shelf underneath the sink to the windowsill. The only space without bottles on it is the shoe rack, it is filled with an array of different footwear. The air is thick and smells disgusting, which Cook obviously noticed too; she had a green scarf held in front of her pointy nose.

"How much longer, this _hovel_ is unbearable." I shoot her a look. I thought I could be insensitive but I'm the most empathetic creature alive in comparison to her. Naturally, Cook ignores my glare.

"S'not much ssslonger... I ssssshould thu-thinkss." This slurred sentence is followed by several surprisingly child-like hiccups.

The drunken gnome from dinner turned out to be a terrific shoe maker. That is, if you base his terrific-ness on product alone. His treatment of customers isn't so good - just ask my bleeding toes, viciously stabbed with a needle.

"Well, hurray! I might just manage not to spill my latest breakfast concoction on your floor. Not that it would make much difference, Biv." Cook is clearly close to snapping, and so am I.

"Sssthere! Al-all done! I can havessss your newsss bootss ready in a few daysss."

"A few days?" I say, my poor feet!

"Yesss, good ssshoes take ti-time. And I'm really s'not looking forward to making them; your feetsss are sssso terribly average in si-sssize." Never have I been told my average sized feet were a problem. Although now that he's mentioned it, I can see that he's right; they are rather average looking.

"Good, I can go. Biv, the drinks on this table." Cook leaves quickly, calling over her shoulder, "I got a dinner to cook and a staff to boss around, but I'll see you later, Freak. We got plans to discuss." Not wanting to spend any more time in this room in the company of a drunken gnome, I say that I'm grateful and hurry away.

I'm going to try and find Peri and Grimm so that I can apologize for my behavior earlier. Also, I intend to tell them all about the solutions I discovered. Things are beginning to look far more possible now.

...

I don't know why I'd expected them to still be in the classroom after so much time had passed. Now I was walking around the tree, scowling threateningly at any faerie who dared to try and make me feel unwelcome through their gaze. I focused my efforts more on locating Peri; something tells that Grimmalkin will likely be impossible to find. Peri's not on the balcony or in the thinking room, neither do I come across her in any of the hallways I pass through. If I were Peri, where would I be?

The Seamstresses rooms!

Taking more flying boards to get there than what was probably needed, I arrive outside the Seamstresses rooms. Ready to eat some humble pie, I walk into the room - and cast my eyes on an awful sight. A feral looking fox has got Bean pinned to the floor, it's sharp white teeth right at his throat!

"Get off him!" I howl as I run towards them. Poor little Bean!

The fox jumps, clearly startled by my appearance. Bean begins to speak but his little words fall on deaf ears; the fox has just disappeared and in it's place stands Peri, looking ready to burst into laughter at the expression on my face. She drops a red jacket onto the cluttered table next to her. What?

"Fooled you! Mummy fooled you! Ha, ha, ha!" Bean dances around the room once, before darting out the open doors.

"Bean, we'll finish this discussion later! It is not okay to put beetles in Peony's soup, no matter how awful she is to you! Close your mouth, honey. You don't know what sort of beastie might fly in!" Peri clearly wants to laugh, but is kindly holding it in until I understand better. One moment she was a fox, and the next she was herself again?

"What?" I ask, desperate for an explanation.

"Oh, honey! Still not quite got that curly head of yours wrapped around the impossible?" She points with a finger to a chair, and I sit down obediently. "I told you the first time I brought you here, I am a very good seamstress. That trick was my best work in practice. A perfect disguise!" I must still look confused, as Peri decides to give me another demonstration.

She picks up the furry red coat she left on the table when she shifted shapes before, and slowly puts it on. A gleeful smile plays on her lips; I think Peri likes playing the trickster, just a little. The scary part? It suits her. Once the last button is done the change happens instantly. Peri transforms into a dainty, rather feminine looking fox. Her blue eyes stay the same, a constant between the two forms.

"Unbelievable... How'd you manage to do that?" I mutter. The fox trots over and nudges my hand playfully, blue eyes staring up at me. Peri you are an absolute genius!

When Peri takes the coat off I grab, eager for a shot, but she pulls it out of my grasp easily. Before I can complain she speaks,

"I managed it through exceptional seamstress talent and a stolen roll of very magical thread. Titania is still none the wiser! This is mine, honey. Got that? Good! See I'd let you have it but then I'd be left with the other one, and red suits me much better than white." What is she saying? No! It can't be!

Peri has just pulled out a furry white coat from one of the nearby drawers, she then offers it to me. I look at her and she nods back.

"Present!" She says. Too excited to wait any longer I snatch the jacket and hurriedly pull it on. The change happens with the buttoning off the top button.

Suddenly the room seems much larger. I can see my little black nose twitch at the end of my snout. I have small white paws, I think I'm covered in thick white fur all over. Short ears, pointed. Tail. Sharper teeth.

"Suits you that does!" Peri looks ecstatic, proud of her masterpiece. "Practically my twin! A lovely, little Arctic fox!"

Things seem to be getting less and less impossible by the minute.


	7. Practice and Precision

We - Grimm, Peri, Cook and I - are sitting on the balcony, the evening sunshine warming us. Spread out in the middle of us is a large map, complete with moving landscapes and beasts. This is proving to be quite a distraction for me, but seriously? Why did the goblins have to live somewhere so... wild?

"You ate_ two_ Answer Apples! Honey, are you sure your feeling okay? They can sometimes do strange things to your head." Here Peri leans across and places a hand on my forehead, checking for a nonexistent temperature; any excuse to stop me from hunting down a tribe of blood thirsty, vicious goblins.

"Red, she said she was fine. If she faints later it ain't our problem." Cook, always looking out for me. "Now, Grimm surely this scar faced goblin owes you a favour or something? Then all we got to do is get you to tell it to jump in a pond with a kelpie, justice served."

"I don't tend to consort with goblins." Replies Grimm sounding somewhat offended.

"Things just could't be that easy, could they?" I say.

"We'll think of something, honey."Peri, ever the optimist.

"Just because this specific goblin in question doesn't owe me a favour, doesn't mean I don't know who he and his tribe are." Grimm.

"Then care to share it with us, flea bag. I have better things to be doing with my time that sitting here." Cook scowls at Grimm but he ignores her, instead turning to me.

"Tell me, part-human, what good would me telling you where the goblins can be found do? You have no weapon and you lack the ability to control your glamour properly." Grimm questions, but I already have an answer to this particular problem.

"Your right about the glamour thingy. But I could have a weapon, if someone gave me a bow and arrow. I had lessons when I was younger; I was actually pretty good." Ha! Bet you didn't know that furball!

"Honey, there's a huge difference between shooting targets and shooting real, live creatures." Peri reasons. Like she'd ever even hurt a fly!

"Yeah, Freak. This isn't a little competition where no one gets hurt, goblins can fight back." Cook smirks at me, obviously enjoying my stupidity, I'll show her! Grimm it seems, is the only one actually considering my idea seriously. Head bent slightly in thought, he appears to be thinking things through.

"Fine. I'll prove I'm not useless. Give me a bow and arrow." I stare evenly back at Peri's and Cook's shocked faces, they really don't believe me.

"Right then freak, how about a deal. You manage to hit all the targets I set you and I'll get Grimmalkin to tell you where those goblins are. You don't manage to hit all the targets, and it's cleaning all the dishes for a week." Cook extends a hand to me for the second time.

"Cookie, don't-" Too late, I'd already shook her hand. Not long until I find Cassidy's killers now.

...

The Tree of Knowledge had seemed massive from the inside, but from the outside it was gargantuan! Standing formidably, the size of a whole forest. Winged creatures flew in and out of the leafy branches which blocked out the sunlight, casting the ground underneath in shadow. Little windows were dotted all over the tree's huge trunk and down here, where I was standing, the front doors were very tall looking. I couldn't stop staring upwards, in awe of the size of it; my neck must have appeared broken because of the angle it was at.

Cook and some of the other fey had disappeared into the surrounding trees, that all looked like babies compared to the Tree of Knowledge, to put up some targets. I smiled, this I could do. Peri stands anxiously next to me wringing her hands, and Grimm is currently no where to be seen.

"Peri, I'll be fine! It's just targets! I'll do it easily!" I try to reassure her, she's worrying over nothing.

"I know you will, that's the problem! I've only known you a few days Ollie, honey, but I really do care about! I don't want you hurting yourself, or doing anything stupid that you'll regret later!" Peri lets out a long breath after this mini speech. I'm smiling. As much I like to pretend that I'm independent and that I don't need other people, it's not true. Peri just has to be so nice!

"I have to do this Peri. For closure. If it bothers you so much you can with, but I doubt that your any better at fighting than I am." I say quietly. Instead of replying, Peri squeezes my shoulder gently with a hand; this is her way of saying 'I understand, but I'm still going to worry'.

"I can't come. Still, once this nasty business with the goblins is over you'll come back and we can celebrate!" Peri says cheerfully. 'Come back'...

"Listen, Peri I don't really think-" I'm cut off.

"Ready, Freak?" Cook strolls out of the nearby woodland and stands in front of me. It's on!

"Of course, you'll be arguing with Grimm later Cook, getting him to tell me where those goblins are!" I reach out a hand for the bow; with a smirk Cook places it in my hands. It's a lot different from any bow I have ever held before, not because it's fancy but because it's so handmade looking. I balance it on my hand, getting a feel for the weight. Cook then hands me a quiver holding three arrows, each arrow-head sharp and deadly.

"There's three targets. Hit each one on the bull's eye. Then I get Grimm to spill. Understand?" Cook explains the rules. In reply I put the quiver over my shoulder and have a test of the bow's string with my finger. I march forward into the woodland, I can do this.

The first target almost makes me laugh; it's not very far away and I have a clear shot. I raise the bow and fix the position of the first arrow. Then, off it goes. Dead centre I think. A dwarf jumps out of the bush below the target, he then spins around to see where my arrow is on it. Shaking his unkempt head he shouts,

"Bull's eye!" He takes the arrow and hurries off. Gone.

A few minutes later I spot the second target. It's definitely harder to reach than the first, but still I think I'm capable of making the shot and I do. A brownie declares it another bull's eye before scurrying away. Two down, one to go.

Ten minutes on, and I only just find the third target. It's placed halfway up the outside wall of a cave, not visible from some angles because of jutting out rocks. Shit, this one looks challenging. I should have known Cook wouldn't make it too easy. I might still end up washing all the dishes for a week. Walking back and forth, I try and determine the place where I can get the best shot. Stop. Here. Pulling the last arrow from the quiver I take aim. Deep breaths.

_"Accuracy. Focus. Precision. You need these if you want to be a good archer." Phil, our archery instructor says. He takes his job and the sport far too seriously in Cassidy's opinion, but in mine he's just passionate._

_Taking aim at the target in front of me, I release my arrow. It lands off centre. Try again. Closer to the centre but not quite there. One last time. Bull's eye!_

_"Good, Olivia. You just need some more practice. Remember: accuracy, focus and precision." Phil gives me some encouragement._

_"Show off!" Teases Cass, her silly smile giving away her pride in my shot._

_"Jealous!" I tease back. "It's all about precision Cass, that's all!" We both laugh at my impersonation of Phil, maybe he does just take this a tiny bit too seriously._

Accuracy. Focus. Precision.

BOOM!

The arrow zooms towards the target. What was that? It hits the target. Where did that noise come from? Biv appears at the target and pulls the arrow free, the he shouts out. What's happening?

"Miss!"

A burst of victorious laughter. Cook! She is suddenly at my side, grinning like the mad villain from a film. She was responsible for the noise.

"You-" I begin to fume.

"Aww, don't look so put out, Freak. That last one was_ almost_-" To show how much '_almost_' is, she makes a tiny gap between two of her fingers. " a bull's eye. Two out of three isn't bad. Now, come come! You've got dishes to scrub." With more laughter Cook heads back to the tree, me following; I'm bound by our stupid bargain to clean those stupid dishes now!

...

The sink is overflowing with soapy bubbles and the brownies - after suffering several casualties thanks to my soapy wrath - have learned to steer clear of me. I clatter another scrubbed dish down onto the bunker. Enough magic to grow a tree the size of King Kong, but not enough to clean a measly pile of dirty dishes, these faeries annoy me. At least Cook has left by now, her nasty reminders of my failure were getting to much. Bitch! The thought of her makes me slam another plate down. She made a deal to help, but she hadn't specified when she would help me; I could be here another twenty years and she could still have done nothing. In my frustration I accidentally drop a cup on floor, where on impact it promptly smashes. Sighing, I kneel down and pick up the pieces.

"You should have known Cook would trick you." Grimmalkin appears and sits himself on a stool a good few feat away from me; obviously he is wary of smashing plates and soapy water.

"Grimm, I'm really not in the mood. If you would be as ever so kind as to remove your flea infested self from my presence, that would be lovely." I inform him as I place the pieces of cup into a bin.

"Fine, I was only coming to offer information about the goblins you are after, but if that is how you thank me..." Grimm begins to vanish. Oh no!

"Wait! Cat! Grimm! I'm sorry, honest. Please help!" I hate begging almost as much as I hate washing dishes, but desperate times and all that.

"I will tell you when you can actually act upon such knowledge. Knowing it the now might only lead to you trying to leave and break your bargain with Cook. In a week, part-human, I will tell you." A week!

"What am I supposed to do until then?" I ask, exasperated.

"Clean dishes? You clearly need the practice." Here Grimmalkin nods at the sea of soapy water on the floor, condescending smirk on his little face.

"I was being serious."

"So was I. However if that idea does not appeal to you, then why not practice more with your bow? You will need if my plan is to succeed. Or perhaps you have talents with other weapons that you have not mentioned yet? Swordsmanship perhaps?" Plan? Swordsmanship?

"You've worked out a plan? Since when? And no, I'm only any good at archery. Why do you ask?"

"No reason, part-human." He says it in a way that makes me think he knows something; but then again, he always sounds like that. "And I have been working on a plan since this morning, but it's success depends on you."

"What's the plan then?" I get no answer as Grimmalkin has already vanished.

Sigh. Looks like I'll be spending the next week practicing then. I quickly finish off the dishes before retiring to my room. Although my body is tired my mind is wide awake.

What's Grimmalkin's plan?

**Author's Note!**

**I'm about half-way through the story now! What are your thoughts so far? Please review, I really want to know what you think. :)**


	8. Goodbyes

One week since I failed to hit Cook's third target. One week of cleaning dishes, practicing with my new bow and getting used to wearing the coat Peri gave to me. One week of Cook taunting me, Peri being nice to me, Bean being a little trouble maker, Biv stumbling around drunk, the other inhabitants of the tree scowling at me and Grimm teaching me - in his easily annoyed and impatient manner - all about the NeverNever. So far very little little of his teachings have made any sense, but I like to think that I am at least managing to remember the important, potentially life-saving stuff. One week since Grimmalkin said that he would tell me in a week where the goblins are.

Today I go and find them.

Swinging my legs out of the warm sanctuary that is my bed, I purposely knock Grimm to the floor. Instead of speaking, hissing or even clawing me he just disappears. Oh well, it's not as if I'll miss his company. Quickly I grab a towel from one of my drawers and dash across the hallway to the bathroom, making absolutely sure to lock the door. Ten minutes later and I'm smelling like a bunch of flowers. When I hurry back across to my room, clutching my towel around me, I find that I have a visitor.

"Morning, honey!" Peri puts on a good show of being fine, but I've always been pretty good at reading people and she's not fine. She's upset, which in turn makes me upset. I refuse to cry over this though. I refuse.

"Morning." I say back, voice remaining reasonably neutral. Peri then points to the bed, where she has laid a bundle of clothing. Obviously it's for me and I smile; Peri acts like my mother, sister and best friend all at once sometimes. When I reach my bed I pick up the clothing: a soft, sleeve-less, white shirt that is embroidered with silver thread; a pair of dark purple trousers with several pockets; a grey leather belt, silver buckle; thick, woolly socks; underwear; and my Arctic Fox jacket.

Quickly, I put everything except the jacket on and turn back to face Peri; she looks me over critically with the eyes of a great seamstress before smiling her approval and directing me towards the mirror. I agree with Peri, the clothes look fantastic. She is a brilliant seamstress, but an even better friend when from behind her back she pulls out a set of long wristbands. They are the same material as my trousers and are large enough to cover my forearms. So she had noticed, that probably meant everyone else had noticed too. My scars. They form a rather hideous, mismatching detail on both my forearms. Entirely my fault, I put them there myself in misguided attempts to keep my head clear. Giving Peri what I hope is a thankful expression, I put the wristbands on. It's not so much that their ugly that makes me want to hide them, it's more the way people tended to judge me when they saw them. Although, I hadn't really noticed them much since I'd arrived in the NeverNever. Maybe that has something to do with the fact that everyone else seemed to be the strange, disfigured ones to me?

"You're Unseelie, so I'm guessing you don't get cold?" I nod."Thought so, that's why I never made you a jumper or a cardigan. Just use this-" Peri pulls a black leather bag from her larger one."To carry your disguise jacket, honey. Got that?" She tosses me the bag, I catch it and place the fluffy jacket inside. Peri then comes over with my discarded towel and tries to dry my hair slightly; it stops dripping at least. Sighing, she uses a brush to put it up into bun out of my face. Now when it  
dries it won't be all over the place.

"Peri, I-" She speaks right over me.

"Come on then, honey! We've got to go and get your new boots!" With that she grabs my arm and yanks me from the room. She isn't taking my leaving very well at all.

...

When we arrived at Biv's rooms it took us a good fifteen minutes to finally wake him up. Once he was up, he was in a foul mood thanks to his hangover. Nothing new. He then preceded to spend the following ten minutes searching for my new boots. By the time he found them - in a box, jammed underneath his filthy bed - I was having doubts about the quality of boot I going to get. Cook had, after all, misled me before.

"Here you go." Biv throws the box at my completely average-sized feet. What was I saying about his treatment of customers last time? I bend down to open the box and put on the boots, but Biv's next muttered words stop me. "I made a few adjustments when I was making them, y'know. Your feet are just so... boring and average and... pathetic looking. I needed to do something to them to spice them up a bit, but I still think their bloody awful boots. So boring..." Biv tails off. Adjustments? Nervously I glance at Peri, who is hiding in the corner (or as close to the corner as she can get without standing on glass bottles and shoes, and without causing a dust tornado). She nods and tells me to sit down. What the hell! I open the box.

They appear to be completely normal. Grey leather the same shade as my belt. They come up to just below my knees and have no heel (phew!). The stitching on them is good and looks as though it will last. More confident I pull them on. Very comfortable, Biv clearly did work from the measurements he took when Cook brought me to see him. I jump to my feet and begin to pace back and forth, much to Biv's annoyance. They are without a doubt incredibly lovely boots, but also incredibly ordinary boots.

"Umm, Biv? What adjustments did you make exactly?" Peri was thinking the same as me then.

"Look! Use your eyes! No foot prints, no trace of her! Like a ghost she is in those pathetic boots..." Biv mutters to himself. No footprints?

"He's right, honey! You should have left footprints in the dust, but... nothing!" Peri claps her hands together and laughs at Biv's genius. Great. Now couldn't someone be nice enough to explain it to me. "You've made them untraceable, haven't you Biv?" Peri asks.

"Yes. To most fey anyway. Some might still be able to follow her, but they'd have to very good." Wait, I was untraceable in these? "Now, leave! I got work to be doing and drink to be drinking!" Biv huffs angrily and me and Peri leave.

Meeting Biv has completely persuaded me never to drink alcohol; it obviously has rather ugly consequences.

"Peri, what does 'untraceable' mean exactly?" I ask as we head towards the kitchen for breakfast.

"It means, honey, that when you wear those boots you leave no mark behind. No broken twigs, no crushed leaves and no footprints! See, earlier when you first tried them on you should have left foot prints in the dust, but you didn't. Those boots are marvelous! They match your belt too! And, hardly anyone could track you now. It'd take a very talented someone to manage it." Peri babbles on, genuinely amazed by Biv's creation; I have to admit, I am too. Untraceable... Has a ring to it, don't you think?

...

I won't miss Cook, but her breakfasts? Now them I will miss! Today there seemed to be a little of everything I'd ever had here; by the time I'd finished I felt like a balloon. The brownies kept dashing back and forth, offering me more food or more juice. I'd miss them. Bean joined Peri and myself shortly after we'd arrived, looking very upset.

"Bean, what's up?" I ask.

"You're leaving." He accuses. He's upset that I'm leaving, that's really sweet.

"I know." No point denying it. "But I'll miss you, and your Mommy." Peri smiles and the brownies look hurt. Oops. "I'll even miss the brownies too." There, that cheered them up.

"I'll miss you, Ollie. You're really strange." Um, thanks? "You're not going to forget me?" Bean looks adorably hopeful.

"Of course I won't, Bean!"

"Promise?"

"Promise." Some of the brownies cast me horrified looks; I forgot promises were really big deals here. Oh well, I know I will keep this one. Bean looks mildly happier now, and resumes stuffing his face with fresh strawberries. Peri gives me a grateful look. Cook sighs loudly, I'd forgotten that she was here; she had been awfully quiet.

"Well, that was touching." Cook places a hand over her heart. I bet it's frozen solid.

"Oh, be quiet Cookie." Peri says. "Now, honey, we better get going. I still need to get you your supplies. Bean, you wait here with Cookie." Bean nods sadly as Peri stands and motions to me with a hand. I hurry over to Bean and give him an affectionate pat on his head. To him this is an invitation for a hug. Sigh. How many times? NOT A HUGGER! I need to get that tattooed across my forehead in bright pink. He finally lets go and grins up at me. Bye Bean. Peri and I turn to leave, but Cook hurries over.

"Wait! Here, Freak, take this. I still hate you though, but I'd prefer it if you weren't killed." She hands me a solid, silver ladle. "Use this as a last resort." Right. Maybe I'd just forgotten, but I'm fairly sure Grimm never mentioned anything about having to face killer soups.

"I'm grateful, I guess..." She scowls at me.

"Well forgive me if I thought that a frying pan, whilst admittedly more dangerous, is much more of a cliche! Now get! I got cooking to do!" She shoos Peri and I from the kitchen. We exit the door to Bean's shouts of good luck and the waving of brownies. Just before she slams the door shut, Cook gives a small but genuine smile.

Maybe I'll miss her just a little bit.

SLAM! Right in my face.

Then again, maybe I won't.

...

"I think that's it, honey." Peri adds some bandages to my bag.

We'd spent the last hour or so picking out supplies. My bag now contained: a spare change of clothes; a few, rough maps ("Not to be relied upon, honey, there very old and the Wyldwood changes all the time! Just a rough guide, okay?"); food; water bottles, each filled to the brim; Cook's ladle; a green blanket; a hairbrush and some bobbles; my Arctic Fox jacket; a knife (Which I will never touch, for fear of poking my own eye out); and some bandages. Why did I feel like I was packing for some impossibly dangerous mission? Was I doing that?

"I feel as if I'm forgetting something." Peri says. I don't know what, all that bag is missing is an elephant. "Ahhh! Wait here! It's for your bow and arrows." Peri dashes from her room, leaving me alone. How am I going to tell her I have no intention of coming back? As much as I like this place, this place doesn't always seem to like me. I don't really belong here.

"Are you almost packed, part-human? I would rather like to leave before midday." Grimmalkin appears and sits on Peri's bed next to my bag.

"_You_ would like to leave?" I ask.

"You will need someone to stop you from getting yourself killed." Is Grimm actually concerned for me? "Besides, as I have already said, you are somewhat amusing." No. Wishful thinking.

Before I can come up with a satisfactory retort, Peri bursts back into the room. In her hands is a small, grey cloth bag. She hurriedly empties the bag's contents - a handful of glass vials, each containing a dangerously coloured liquid - onto her dresser and grabs a needle and some grey thread.

"Give me your belt, honey!" Confused, I hand over my belt. Peri deftly attaches the bag to it, and gets me to put it back on.

"Peri, what are those?" I point to the vials of liquid.

"Oh, there-"

"Poisons." Says Grimm.

"What? Why do I need those for my bow and arrow?"

"So you can tip your arrow heads with them honey. Not all of them are for fey, some work on plants and things too." Peri tells me.

"Plants? What, there's cannibalistic bushes here now too?"

"I'll let you figure that out another time, honey." Peri smirks. "Now come on then! Are you leaving today or what?" She gives me the poisons to put in the bag and then she gives my supplies a final once over.

"Peri I think we're good to go." I say, not wanting say goodbye, but eager to find those goblins.

"I know." She looks sad as she passes me my quiver - stocked with thirteen arrows - and my bow. "We'll use as many boards to get to the front doors as possible honey, okay?" She gives me her trademark smile and pulls me off down the hallway, Grimmalkin following behind.

...

It's warm outside even in the shadow of the Tree of Knowledge. Peri can't stand still as we say bye. I'm just praying that she doesn't start crying.

Shit. Spoke to soon.

"Peri, it's okay." Most over used line ever, I know. In my defense, I suck when it comes to dealing with my own emotions, let alone other people's.

"I know, honey. I know. And it's not goodbye, not really! You're coming back afterward!" Peri finally looks me in the eyes, and immediately falls silent.

"Peri-"

"Your not coming back." She says flatly. Oh no! No! She sounds just like...

_"Your not coming back." My voice is empty as I speak to Carla and Henry. They look guilty, upset. I expect them to say more, tell me off for being rude. I expect them to do something._

_Instead they just hurry out of the Loony Bin front doors as quickly as possible; you would think madness was a very infectious disease or something._

_They didn't even say it. They didn't even give me a 'goodbye'._

I wasn't going to do that to Peri. No chance.

I grab her her arm and look her in the eyes.

"I don't belong here, Peri. You know I don't." She sighs. I think she knew, deep down that this was it. "I won't forget anyone though, especially not you. I'm so grateful Peri. But I'm human, even if only a little bit, and I need to go back to where I come from after this. Finding these goblins? That's just closure and justice for Cass's death." Salty tears now pour down Peri's rosy cheeks.

"Justice?" She can't know, but she does. She knows I'm contemplating taking revenge.

"Justice." I lie. "I need this. Then I'm going back and probably getting sent to the Loony Bin." I laugh. "I'm certainly mad now, I've visited the NeverNever! The _freaking_ land of faeries!" I still don't really believe it. "So it's goodbye, Peri."

"Yeah..." Peri looks like there's something else she's not telling me. Like she thinks my plans for going home are nonsense. I expect her to say something. She doesn't, instead she gives a very brief hug (Ugh!) and runs back into the tree.

She didn't give me a 'goodbye' either.

"Come, part-human. Farewells bore me." Grimmalkin turns and heads off into the surrounding trees and I follow behind him. I stop just at the tree line and turn back around for a final look at the Tree of Knowledge. At least the tree had been safe, the 'Wyldwood' sounded like it was going to be positively evil.

Movement catches my eye.

If I had blinked I would have missed it. At one of the lower windows on the tree a shadow stands, and I feel as if it's watching me.

"Hurry up, part-human!" I turn to look into the trees after Grimm's voice and he scowls before trotting off. I turn back to the tree and it's window, but the shadow has gone. Who was that?

I turn and disappear into the woodland after Grimmalkin. Goodbye Tree of Knowledge.

** Author's Note!**

**Thanks for reading! Please leave me a review! **

**Also, I'm thinking about writing a story from Peri's POV about how she made her fox disguise and more about who she actually is general. It would be set when she is much younger. Would love to hear people's thoughts on that idea! Practically no one gives me a review :(**


	9. Searching

I could tell instantly the moment we left Seelie court territory and crossed into the Wyldwood. The trees suddenly turned all gnarled and twisted, bushes were equipped with vicious thorns, there were hardly any flowers and the bright sunlight vanished leaving us in twilight. Leaves covered the ground, making a crinkly, orange-red carpet; I, however, left no trace thanks to my boots. Strange noises floated towards me, carried by the breeze. They were terrifying and completely new to my ears. Vines wrapped themselves around trees and snaked across the ground; it might just have been my imagination, but I swear some of them were actually moving. Grimmalkin was far up ahead, darting in and out view as he navigated through the thick trees with ease. Creatures scurried up tree trunks and underneath bushes, I was always to late at turning around to get a proper glimpse of them. Perhaps that was good thing? Nightmares troubled me enough as it was.

"Part-human, must you walk so slowly?" Grimm has appeared in front of me, causing me to nearly trip over him. He's also scowling, but that's hardly unusual.

"Well, I am sorry. But this is all new to me. Grimm, just a bit of advice: next time you bring someone here for the first time and expect them to walk quickly, refrain from mentioning all the man-eating, scary, dangerous beasts that live here. It might make them a little less paranoid." A twig snaps behind me and I grab an arrow, ready to fight whatever beast I'm faced with.

A watchful, snow white bunny rabbit sits placidly munching on a patch of grass which has managed to grow. Point proven. I'm even wary of rabbits now; although that rabbit does looks kind of creepy.

"Come part-human. Do try and keep up. Your slowness is beginning to annoy me." Grimm resumes walking. I - not wanting to be left alone with the suspicious looking rabbit - follow angrily behind, making sure to be quicker than before.

...

Walking. Sigh. I think I've gone back to taking it for granted, in fact I'm finding it a right pain in the ass at the moment. It feels as if Grimm has had me marching onward to nowhere in particular for hours and hours now. The wood has grown even darker, and everything seems even more menacing. New noise just as foul as the last erupt from the shadowy depths of the forest, the fear they stir in me causing goosebumps to appear on my arms.

About an hour ago, I'd asked Grimm for a break. He'd glared at me and decided to increase the pace of our search. Now I was determined to take a break but frightened of making Grimm walk even faster.

"Hey! Anybody there! Help! HELP!" A not so distant shout echoes around the trees. Someone's in trouble!

I set off in the direction of the voice, but Grimm jumps in my way.

"What are you doing? I need to help them!" I'd always thought of myself as an animal lover until I had met Grimmalkin. He normally made me want to kick him. Hard.

"What do you think you are doing, part-human? How are you going to help anyone? I certainly will not be joining you on a rescue mission." Grimm raises an eyebrow (or at least, that's what it looks like he's doing - expressions change slightly when displayed on a feline's face).

"Fine. Don't join me, coward." I storm past him and start running to the shouts.

Trees and bushes zoom past as I sprint onward. Rocks and uneven dips attempt to send me crashing to the ground, but I stay on my feet. Barely. Grimmalkin has stayed true to his word and vanished. More shouts, desperation has began to leak into this person's voice. I think it's a guy's, but I'm slightly unsure.

"Hold on!" I yell. "I'm coming!"

"Help! Over Here!" The shouts are very close now, but I can't see anyone.

CRACK! A sizable rock hits the tree right next to me, missing my head by mere inches. I look in the direction it came from, but all I can see is more trees and bushes.

SPLASH! Water? I look closer at the nearby trees and bushes. There! A small, murky pond with a rather muddy person splashing around in it. I rush over.

"What-" I begin.

"Look, I don't have time to explain. Just get me out of here!" The guy (I'm sure it's a guy now) begs, he looks almost frightened.

"Right, sure thing. Just give me a minute." I say, my mind assessing the pond. Not good; the water is about a metre or so below the edge where I'm standing. If that didn't make it hard enough to get out, the sides are all muddy and slippy too. Directly across from me though, is an unstable pile of rocks. They are set up like a game of Jenga, take away the wrong one and the whole pile will fall. I decide to walk around the perimeter of the pond, careful not to fall in myself. If I had some rope...

"I did ask you to be quick about this, didn't I?" Says the stranger. More irritated than scared now.

"Would you shut up! I'm attempting to think!" I snap. Then I take my bag off my shoulder and rummage inside it in search of a rope. No luck, Peri and I never packed one. I look around worried. Wait! "The vines..." I mutter.

"Great. Hurry up and get some so you can pull me out!" He shouts, hopeful. Grabbing the green vines from the nearest tree I begin to tie them together; the make shift rope doesn't have to be very long, just over metre should do it. My hands fumble with the knots, pressure getting to them. A few more moments and I'm all done.

"Here!" I toss one end of the vines to the guy whilst I hold on tight to the other end.

"You need to make it longer, idiot! You're not going to be able to pull me out! Make it longer and tie your end to a tree!" He sounds like an exasperated teacher trying to explain the alphabet to a five year old. He could at least try and sound grateful, I am _trying_ to save him. Sighing in frustration, I pull the vines back up and quickly add some more. Soon it doubles, then triples in length.

"This long enough?" Holding it up I show him, and he nods. Good. I hurriedly tie my end to a tree, wrapping it around the trunk to secure it even more, then I toss the other end down to the guy for a second time. He pulls on the vines, testing their strength. Once he's satisfied he starts to clamber his way up, but it takes him forever because his feet keep sliding. Once he's halfway up I think I can reach him, so I stretch out a hand; this gesture seems to surprise him and he looks at me in shock. He has strange eyes, their a magnificent shade of midnight blue. We stare at each other for a few more seconds, I feel like I've met him before. Then, almost at the exact same time, we realize what we are doing. Blushing slightly (_Blushing!? Me?_), I grasp his hand and try to help him out.

SNAP! The vines weren't strong enough to support his weight for that long so he goes crashing back into the pond; he would have taken me with him if he hadn't let go of my hand when he realized what was happening. He hits the water with a splash, sending dirty raindrops up into the air. Once his head is back above water, he starts swearing and coughing. Now what?

"Third time lucky?" I ask him once his coughing has subsided.

However, before he can reply a shiny, black horse head breaks the surface of the water. The horse has red eyes - red eyes! - and looks hungry. Shit. I look at midnight eyes for direction but he's too busy backing up to the side of the pond, eyes darting around trying to formulate a plan. Then, his hand breaks the surface wielding a knife.

A tiny knife like that against a massive deadly horse? This guy's going to be dead unless I help him.

I hope he wrote his will and told his family how much he loved them before leaving this morning.

Panicking, I survey the scene. If I managed to make those rocks fall, would that be enough to scare off the savage horse? I have to try it! Only problem is that the horse is at the wrong part of the pond for the rocks to hit it. I look around again, hoping inspiration will strike or an Answer Apple would appear. Wait a minute! My bag has normal apples in it, and all kinds of food. The horse might just like ham sandwiches enough to leave the guy alone, or at least follow the sandwich to the part of the pond where the rocks can reach it. Not having any better ideas, I grab the ham sandwiches and shout to the horse; both it and the guy look at me. I wave the sandwiches around.

"Want some! Go and get them!" I throw the sandwiches to the opposite side of the pond. The horse shoots me a suspicious glare before going after the sandwiches, and the guy is just looking at me like I'm insane. Not anything I'm not used to then. Surprised that my plan worked, I begin to dash to the rocks ready to give them one good shove. However, when the killer horse sees me it abandons it's hunt for the sandwiches and whiny's terrifyingly at me. Then it resumes sizing up the guy. Oh dear, I can't get to the rocks! The horse lunges at the guy.

My arrow hits one of the smaller rocks. Nothing. The pile still stands. The horse lets out an angry noise and backs up slightly, blood drips from a slash across it's face; the guy managed to fend it off, but not for long. The horse starts to lunge again, so I let another arrow fly.

It hits a small rock. Sends that small rock toppling into the water. Several moments pass. The horse is almost on the guy.

Then the avalanche starts.

The precarious pile of rocks finally falls, and the horse - not wanting to get crushed - disappears under the water. I hope it can get back out again. The fallen rocks settle now creating an easier way out, as the stones stuck in the muddy pond wall can be used as foot holds. Picking up part of the broken vine rope I run over to the other side, tossing the rope down. Mouth open slightly in shock, the guy grips the vines and starts to climb his way out. With a final heave he hoists himself out and stands in front of me, only a few inches taller than me and dripping muddy water onto the ground at our feet.

"What was that horse thing?" I ask. The thing looked similar to something I had seen when I was little.

"A kelpie." He replies, wiping mud away from his eyes. He stares at me, eyes all intense; this makes me feel awkward. He can't be that much older than myself and you would think that would make it easier to talk to him but no. Being locked in the Loony Bin for the past two years has left me without much experience with guys. I'm fairly sure I'm blushing again.

"Uhh... right. Well..." I sound completely brain dead, but must he keep looking at me like that? And where do I think I know him from?

"Why are you out here? How come you didn't know that was a kelpie?" His voice is now suspicious, which causes annoyance to take the place of awkwardness. Who does this guy think he is?

"You know, I think it would be more appropriate for you to say 'I appreciate you saving my ass from that kelpie' than questioning me. Don't you think?"

"Right." He scowls at me, midnight blue eyes turning to slits.

"Well? That wasn't very grateful!" I say, scowling right back.

"You saved my life."

"Yeah I know. I also wasted perfectly good ham sandwiches on you, so some appreciation would be nice. You don't need to say thank you or anything, I know how you fey feel about thank you's-"

"What do you mean '_you fey_'?" He leans across and grabs my arm, suspicion plain on his face. "Who are you?"

I decide that I don't need to be treated like this or answer any of his questions. Jerking my arm free from his grip, I stalk back to my bag and pick it up.

At least that's what I would have done if he hadn't beaten me there. Damn. This guy is worse than Cook. I lunge for my bag, but he tosses it behind him; this causes some of the contents to scatter on the ground. Before I can start mouthing off at him, he shoves me against a tree and presses his knife - still wet with kelpie blood, might I add! - to my throat.

Fear claims me, speeding up my heart and making me tremble. What am I going to do? About a week ago I was fine with dying, I wanted to in fact. Now, I'd really rather be alive.

As much as it pains me to admit it, Grimmalkin was right - coming to this person's rescue had been a very, very bad idea.

"If you start talking, I won't slit your throat. Simple. Can you do that?" His voice is cold, but incredibly calm also. I nod, frantically; there is no disagreeing with someone who has a knife at your throat.

"Good. Now, why did you save me?"

"I h-heard you shouting, so I c-came. I- I didn't want you to get eaten b-by that kelpie." I'd almost said that I felt like I knew him, but that might only assure him of my insanity.

"But your Unseelie."

"Uh, yeah. I think I am. At least part Unseelie anyway." He raises an eyebrow at this statement; I'd forgotten that Cook said hardly any fey had children with humans, so I was sort of a freak.

"So, why did you save me? Is it a life debt you're after? A very difficult favour?"

"Uh... None of the above? You needed help so I helped you."

"You're part-human." Realization dawns on him, and he stares at me in horror. And something else too, but I can't quite put my finger on it. "What's your name?"

"Olivia. Olivia Willow Frost." This just makes him look even more horrified, I might as well have said that I murdered my best friend and then ate her. The knife comes away from my throat then, and I come very close to falling over in relief but midnight eyes supports me by holding one if my shaking arms. He puts his knife back in his belt, and my fear leaves me. It is replaced with anger.

SMACK!

I hit him in the face, little icicles on my fingers and all. Bastard! He lets out a huff of surprise before clutching his face in pain. He doesn't try and hit me back though; obviously he knows he deserved it. Instead, he raises a hand in peace before turning it to the side. He wants to make a truce.

"Give me the knife first." I say. Under normal circumstances I would probably have been running away by now, but it hasn't exactly been 'normal circumstances' since I jumped off The Bridge and woke up on Grimm's tail. I really want to figure where I know this guy from, and something - a gut instinct? - tells me that this guy wouldn't have killed me.

After a moments consideration, he reluctantly hands me his knife. We shake hands. Truce.

"So, if you don't mind my asking, who the hell are you?" I'm feeling much more confident now that I'm the one with the knife. The guy sighs resignedly before replying.

"Everyone calls me Flint. Flint Frost."

"Frost!" That's weird. That is very weird. I squint at him, trying to figure out if we're related or not. "Same as me..."

"Yes. Coincidences, huh?" He tries to sound lighthearted but fails. He's obviously doesn't believe in coincidences any more than I do. So much so that I don't bother commenting. "Yeah, you're right. No such thing as coincidences. That's what my-"

"My Dad always said." Now it's my turn to raise an eyebrow at him. Could we be related? We both have pale skin, but from what Peri had said all Unseelie fey looked like they'd never seen sunlight. His hair was a completely different colour to mine, a weird black that looked slightly blue depending on which way you looked at it. Our faces were similar enough although he did have a nose that looked like it had been broken a few times. Maybe it _had_ been broken a few times. He  
was still soaking wet and muddy, but I could see his muscles by the way his clothes stuck to him. He clearly worked out. Nope, that settled it. I don't think I could possibly find a brother or cousin of mine as attractive as I was finding this guy, even if I didn't know for certain that we were related.

"Right. Whatever. I got to go, Loki will be looking for me soon and it's probably better if you're not-"

The mad chuckling coming from behind me stops Flint from saying any more. I look over my shoulder to see a whole gang of those vicious, painted hat wearing creatures surrounding my scattered belongings. One of them finds my jacket and squeals in delight, attracting the attention of the others and causing a squabble over it. They tug it back and forth, threateningly close to ripping the stitching. They _do_ rip the stitching, a whole sleeve begins to tear away. I let out a rage filled wail. _How dare they!_ I start forward, reaching for an arrow when Flint pulls me behind him and snatches his knife back.

"Couldn't have just stayed quiet?" They small creatures have noticed us now and this makes their evil smiles broaden - and leave my jacket alone. Pulling out surprising big weapons from even more surprising places, they start forward. "Now I'm going to have to kill all of them." What?

Flint walks forward to meet them, completely confident that he won't end up as dinner. "Do I need to kill you all? You can run now while you still have the chance."

They laugh at that, and brandish their gore-covered weapons above their heads. The biggest one speaks,

"Yeah right, nothing better than fresh meat, ay boys?" The others laugh again. For such feral looking things their awfully well trained. "We'll be having you and your girlfriend for dinner tonight!" Excuse me, but girlfriend? As if ruining my jacket wasn't bad enough. I take aim at the leader's hat, hoping to knock it off his head and stick it to a tree.

Just as my arrow flies the creatures attack Flint. He smiles pityingly at them before kicking the first one out of his way and leaving it unconscious at the base of a nearby tree. The others stab at him, deadly serious. They get run through with giant icicles for their efforts, but before they can hit the ground dead they burst into small bushes or beetles.

"Got you, girly!"

"OW!" I fall over.

One of the creatures had sneaked up on me as I watched the fight and stabbed me in the thigh with a small sword, which worryingly has a strange, sticky purple substance covering it. What happens next is an accident. The purple stuff is clearly poison and it starts to work it's way into my system, causing my to lash out in pain. Luckily as I'm flailing my limbs I manage to kick the little monster and send him flying into a nearby tree. Crying out in agony I don't notice when the ground turns icy and it begins to snow. Beginning to lose consciousness, I only barely hear Flint's laughter and the screams of dying and fleeing creatures. My body goes numb, the pain from the poison getting too much.

Then, just like when I hit the water after my jump, there is nothing.

**Author's Note!**

**Thank you soooo much for reading this. Please leave a review, any constructive criticism would be lovely. What did you think? :)**


	10. Dreaming

_The whole garden is covered in a thick layer snow, it coats everything in a sparkly sheet of pure white. Snowflakes tumble and swoosh, twist and dance, spin and swirl their way to the ground. All of them are special, each one completely unique. They make the otherwise barren garden seem beautiful. Best of all?_

_The snow covers the terrifying faces._

_The faces were the main reason why I never ventured into the garden when it wasn't snowing. If you could see them... Shudder. They don't move behind their icy encasements, except for their eyes. Eyes that blink open and shut, open and shut. Open to reveal pools of sorrow, pain and fear. The awful ice people that inhabited the garden were scary in general, mainly because of their eyes but also because of the way they stood; all awkward angles and twisted limbs, like they had been frozen in the middle of playing a serious game of Twister._

_"Ninety! That's it, I'm coming Willow!" The familiar voice of my playmate shouts. Afraid I'll give away my position if I move even just a little, I wrap my small arms around myself tightly. _

_My brilliant hiding place: behind a bush. I resist the urge to look around the side in case he sees me. Minutes pass, then more minutes pass. What's taking him so long, normally he always wins. Worry sets in after a few more minutes, so I decide to go and find him._

_As I jump to my feet a large black shadow appears, grabbing me by the collar of my jacket. The shadow then precedes to carry me screaming back towards the house._

...

The smell of cooking meat and the sound of a roaring campfire wake me from my sleep. Where the hell am I?

As I sit up, head still spinning, I feel like I might throw up. Not good. Deep breath in, exhale. Better - but only just. I look around and I realize that I must still be in the Wyldwood because although the murky pond and redcaps are gone, the trees and bushes are still the same. In front of me is a campfire and above the flames is a few dead rabbits, almost completely cooked; their smell makes me feel slightly queasy. My whole body aches but the worst of the pain comes from my right thigh.

Why is there a stab wound there?

_...One of the creatures had snuck up on me as I watched the fight and stabbed me in the thigh with a small sword, which worryingly has a strange, sticky purple substance covering it._

My memory returns, but that doesn't explain much. I must have fallen unconscious because of the poison and the pain. I give my stab wound a closer inspection and begin to wish that I hadn't. It's been cleaned up, but only slightly; the cut and the skin around it are very bloody, with this strange smelling, pale green stuff coating it. Maybe it's an effect of the poison? Shaking my head in confusion, I realize that my curly hair has been freed from the bun Peri put it in this morning. That's also when I notice that my boots and socks have been taken off my feet. Has someone helped me here?

"So you're awake. I was beginning to wonder if you had died." Flint emerges from the trees carrying one of my water bottles - which is looking quite bashed and broken - and some firewood. I've clearly been out of it for a while because he's no longer looking like a mud monster, which means he found the time to get cleaned up. Still not completely trusting him, I look around for my bow and arrows; there on the other side of the flames. Damn.

"I don't think I'm going to hurt you, so can stop looking so scared." Flint's watching me with a slightly amused smirk on his face, and I'm glad that I notice the lovely bruise forming on one of cheeks. My handiwork.

"You-" My comes out a croak, so I cough a little to try and clear. "You _think_?" My voice still sounds like it belongs to an eighty year old woman with a nasty throat infection.

"Here." Flint comes round to my side of the fire and offers me my water bottle; I take several grateful gulps before sighing in relief. Much better. I set the water bottle down before speaking again.

"So what happened? I mean, I know I got poisoned but shouldn't I be dead or something by now?" Flint sighs and sits down next to me; I'm starting to get the feeling that he likes talking about as much as I like hugging.

"Yeah, one of the redcaps stabbed you with a poisoned sword. You got scared, angry and started to lose control of your glamour. Thanks for that by the way, the ice rink you made and the snow were a huge advantage to me. Anyways-" He scowls when I interrupt.

"I made it snow?"

"I just said that didn't I?"

"Uh, yeah. Sorry. It's just I'm not really used to using my glamour yet."

"Whatever. Anyways, you passed out and I finished off the redcaps. Since I sort of owed you my life, I had to help. I carried you back here-" Flint gestures to the his camp with a hand. "- and started to fix up that wound. You're not dead, so we're even now. No life debts owed."

"Wait, so this weird green gunk is normal then?" Flint nods. "Phew! I thought it some gross effect of the poison. That's a relief."

"It's a healing potion I had here. Give it a day, and the wound will be healed, although you will still have a scar."

"I don't have a day, I'm afraid. Can you just give me my stuff? I need to get going, I've got to find my... friend who was with me before I rescued you." I shakily get to my feet, but topple back down again instantly. Flint sits and smirks at me.

"I don't think you will be finding them tonight." At my angry scowl he rolls his eyes and points to the water bottle. "Stay the night, that way you won't die, and have some water and food."

"I don't eat rabbit. I'll get something from my bag."

"It's rabbit or nothing, those redcaps took quite a bit of your stuff." At my incredulous look, Flint gets up and tosses me my bag over. He was right - a lot of my stuff is gone. I'm missing: all of my water bottles, except the one I just drank out of; the knife; the green blanket; all of the maps; and the bandages. Sighing in defeat, I slouch back against the tree behind me and sip my water angrily.

Flint ignores my mood and passes me a rabbit leg. I'm ravenous so I eat it, but I can't quite manage to get the image of the suspicious looking bunny from earlier out of my weary head. What if I'm eating it?

...

Another rabbit leg and part of it's insides later, Flint and I are sitting in silence. Both of us swimming in our own thoughts. Where do I recognise him from? How am I going to find Grimalkin? Flint, surprisingly, breaks the thoughtful silence with a question.

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen. You?"

"Old." Flint smiles.

"No you're not, you don't look that much older than me!" What is it with people here and speaking nonsense!?

"I _look_ only slightly older than you, I _am_ a lot older than you. You are new here?"

"Just over a week ago since I ended up here. Seems longer though." What do all the doctors and the police thinks happened to me? Do they know I jumped? What about Carla and Henry?

"So, how did a half fey-"

"Three quarter fey, actually." For some reason this seems important.

"Three quarter fey end up living in the human world?" His voice sounds normal and genuinely curious, but his expression seems knowing. I get the feeling I'm not the only one who recognises someone.

"I have no idea. I never knew my real mum, and my dad disappeared when I was a lot younger. After that it was care homes and foster care. Then I got adopted and things were better again; Carla and Henry were great. I got a best friend - Cassidy. Things were fine, my hallucinations - which now I know was actually faeries - were much more manageable. Then Cass got murdered, everyone blamed me and I got locked up in the Loony Bin. Then -"

"I asked how you ended up in the human world, not to be told your whole sad life story." There really isn't much of a reply to this, so I go back to sitting in silence and scowling. I couldn't help it; I just found myself trusting him.

After some time in silence, my thigh starts feeling a lot better. Determined to go and find Grimm as soon as possible, I attempt to walk. A little off balance - my thigh's not totally healed yet - but otherwise I'm great. I go back over to where I was sitting and go to put my socks and shoes back on; however, Flint reaches across and pulls them out of my reach.

"You're not going anywhere like that." He indicates to my ripped, blood stained trouser leg.

"I didn't realize this was a fashion show, my apologies."

"You can smell the blood off you, practically every creature in the Wyldwood is a carnivore - you will get eaten in a matter of minutes."

"Then go away or something so I can get changed then I can leave."

"No."

"No? You know, for someone who hates my company so much, you're really determined to keep me here."

"Unfortunately you saved my life so I had to save yours back. However, I'll have wasted my time and efforts if you go and get yourself killed. Besides, your leg needs a bandage or else it will get infected." Flint takes my wrist and gently pulls me back down until I'm sitting on my jacket. Then he retrieves some bandages from one of his bags; he tries to start bandaging my leg, but that's a little too weird for me so I take the bandages and do it myself. Flint just shakes his head in exasperation with me before he starts drinking out of a bottle he pulled from his bag; I'm fairly sure it's not water he's drinking as it's more of a purply red colour.

Finished bandaging my leg I pass the bandages back to Flint and lean back against my tree. Sigh. Maybe Flint's right about spending the night, I'm knackered and if I stay here I'm - at least slightly - safer. We sit in a comfortable silence and eventually my eyes begin to tire; losing the fight with wakefulness I lie down onto the furry comfort of my jacket, it manages to act as a thin mattress to the upper half of my body.

Sleep doesn't come straight away but then again, it never does. I lie still for awhile and listen to the crackle of the flames mixing with Flints steady breathing. I'm so sure that I recognise him from somewhere, but the answer still eludes me. I wish I had an Answer Apple right now, it would be incredibly useful. More time passes and my mind begins its descent into the hazy clouds of dreamland.

"You've not changed Willow. Not in the slightest. But you had to come back, didn't you? You don't know what kind of trouble I'm going to be in if..." Before I manage to catch the rest of what Flint's saying slumber claims me.

...

_"Willow! Willow! What's happening?" My desperate screams have attracted the attention of my playmate. Seconds later he comes barrelling into view, almost crashing into an ice person on his dash to my rescue._

_"I should have known..." Mutters my kidnapper agitatedly._

_"Flint put Willow down! It's my fault! I talked her into coming!" My playmate is about the same age as me and the same height, he has unruly white hair the same colour as the freshly fallen snow. Running towards us, he stops and stands at his full height (which is barely above Flint's knee)._

_"Loki, don't you think that I know it was you - as it always is - who talked Willow into coming here?" Flint's voice is steely and Loki cowers, staring hard at his feet. Rescue completely forgotten about. Flint sighs loudly. "Get inside and go to your room, don't say a word to anybody. Am I understood?_"

_"Yes, Flint." Loki casts me an apologetic look before vanishing into the house. Once he's gone I am returned to the safety of the snowy ground. My boots get covered under the snow, disappearing just like Loki. _

_"Willow, do you remember what I said about coming here?" Flint has knelt down so that he's face level with me, but I'm still intimidated so I dart my eyes away. Flint then holds my chin and forces me to look him in the eyes. "Well?"_

_"Yes, I remember." He raises an eyebrow, wanting me to say what it was exactly he told me. I comply. "That if I want the nightmares about the ice people to stop, I need to stay away from them. So that means no more playing with Loki in the garden. Especially since my mother doesn't approve."_

_"Yes. That was it. So why didn't you listen?" I shrug, not knowing what to say. "You are fortunate it's me your mother sent to find you and not someone else." Gulp. That sounded rather ominous._

_"So you won't tell her?" I ask hopefully; mother's punishments were terrifying, even worse if she was in a foul temper._

_"If she asks to know then I will tell her, I will not lie." My face falls. "However, if she does not ask then I see no need to inform her."_

_"Flint, I'm so grate-" He gives me a glare that shuts me up instantly._

_"I don't care, Willow. Just listen to me next time. Now come on, your mother will be growing impatient; she has been waiting a long time to see you again." Flint lifts me up easily, and allows me to sit on his shoulders so I can catch snowflakes. He'd never been any good at staying mad with me._

**Author's Note!**

**As usual, thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it and I would love it if you could leave a review! :)**

**There's only about 5-6 more chapters to go! **


	11. Found

I awake to morning in the Wyldwood, which can only really be described as sunny twilight. Smoke furls off the remains of the campfire, rabbit bones littering the ground nearby. A soft blue blanket covers me and I certainly don't remember it being there before I fell asleep. Maybe magical faerie godmothers do exist? That's the only explanation since Flint would never be so thoughtful. Would he?

I sit up to and am about say 'morning' (there is nothing particularly good about it) when I realize I would only be speaking to myself.

Flint has done a Grimalkin on me.

All of his stuff, except the blanket, is gone and the space where he was sitting is empty. That is not fair! Just when I thought I had found someone capable of giving me some answers, they leave. Sure Grimalkin new, but any information that he gave me was always senseless or only part of the truth. After the dream I had last night - the memory - I thought we had part of a shared past. Did that not mean anything to him? Salty tears gather in my eyes, threatening to spill over. Oh no! I am not crying over him. Hastily I wipe away the evidence of weakness like I'm cleaning up the scene of a messy murder. I pick up a stone and throw it at a tree in frustration instead.

"Part-human, I do not think that is wise. For all you know that tree might belong to a nymph or some other fey. Best not to agitate them, no?" Grimm appears on the other side of the campfire, looking his usual bored and condescending self.

"You're back!" Never have I been more happy to see him.

"Obviously." Grimm saunters over to where I am sitting and nods to my torn trouser leg. "Rescue didn't go quite to plan then? You really should have seen that redcap coming, or smelt him for that matter."

"You were there!?" He doesn't even bother replying. "What happened to not following me cat? I'm so flattered that you care."

"Pfft! Hardly. You and the Unseelie sidhe were making enough noise for the entire NeverNever to have noticed, I had a feeling your encounter would be mildly entertaining." I scowl, happiness morphing into annoyance.

"It's nice to see your still alive too, Grimm. Now, did you happen to notice where Flint went? I have questions for him." I stand up as I say this and look around, half hoping a giant floating sign with an arrow pointing me in the right direction will materialize in front of me.

"Yes. But I thought this mission of yours was finding goblins, not finding a boy." Irritated (and mildly embarrassed) by this remark, I turn my back on Grimm and begin to pull clean clothes out of my bag. I smell like a homeless person who lives in a dumpster, best not to continue like this as I'm beginning to suspect that creatures here have very sensitive noses.

Grimm sighs loudly before turning around, clearly annoyed that he has to delay his rant that I know is coming. Peri has packed me dark grey trousers, almost the exact same texture as the ones I'm wearing now; more underwear; and a light purple shirt, this time with mid-length sleeves. Again, every piece of clothing looks brilliant and I really don't feel like I deserve any of it. As I'm getting changed I take a few moments to check out my wound, well what was a wound. Flint hadn't been lying when he'd said I'd only be left with a scar by today; it's about four inches in length and the skin is still a bit red, but for a wound that I obtained yesterday I'd say it's healed nicely.

Once I'm changed I search in my bag for some food, then I remember that I threw my sandwiches at the kelpie and the redcaps made off with the rest. Growling it's complaint my stomach demands food, so I check around and hope that there is some rabbit left. There's not, but Flint has left me some berries and a couple of apples. I start on an apple right away.

"Perhaps you should gather your supplies up and set off first before you have breakfast. The Unseelie sidhe will have had time to alert the court to your whereabouts by now. I do not want to be here when they come looking for you, and I suggest that you feel the same." Grimm says.

"What do you mean? Why would they come and find me?" Grimm's words have made me pause in eating my apple, it sits in my hand half up to my mouth.

"No reason."

"Well if there's no reason, I'll just take my time with my apple."

"You are known around the Unseelie court, but many have believed you to be dead. The fact that you are here now will cause quite a stir."

"known? Dead!?"

"Yes, part-human. Must you repeat what I say? It begins to get tiresome."

"Perhaps if you explained things-"

"Just get moving. You do want to find these goblins, don't you? I assure you that if the Winter court finds you first then those goblins will be the least of your concerns."

"Grimm, what do you mean? Why am I so important?" I get no reply as Grimalkin has decided to start walking. Agitation at my lack of knowledge and the flea bag's lack of help causes me to throw my apple away just like I did with the stone. WHACK! It hits the same tree. Only difference?

This time the tree moves, it's lower branches beginning to swish back and forth like Grimm's tail when he's annoyed. Not wanting to find out what happens next, I spring to my feet and stuff my remaining supplies into the bag. Then I chase after Grimalkin, following his distant flickering shape.

...

It's been hours since we fled Flint's camp and I'm getting fed up of walking. You would think that after a while one would get accustomed to the bizarre sounds, sights and smells of the Wyldwood, however one does not. Just when I think I've heard everything, seen everything and smelt everything the dense woods decide to chuck something new and even more terrifying at me. I can't manage five minutes without being tempted to reach for my quiver. I walk on my tiptoes, often casting glance behind me to make sure nothing is stalking me.

"Stop. I believe we have found your goblin's camp." Grimm has been lying waiting for me to catch up on a tree branch. With a paw he directs my gaze to the large clearing up ahead.

The camp is surrounded by the thick, shifting trees and shrubbery of the Wyldwood on every side. It consists of about nine to eleven tents, each one made out of brown material - that might be animal skin - and patches of other fabric. The tents are held up by large branches or... Are those bones? Various weapons line the edges of the tents: medium-sized swords; roughly made spears; knives of different sizes and shapes; and over there, next to the furthest away tent, sits a bow and a quiver full of arrows. Several small campfires are spread out around the camp, and little lanterns are hanging in front of some of the tents. In the centre of it all is a massive fire pit, dirty giant-sized pots and pans left in a heap nearby. The ground throughout the camp has been walked across so often there are now some clear pathways. There is only one thing missing.

The goblins. The murderers.

"Where are they all? Have they left?" I direct my questions to Grimm, he sighs lazily before answering.

"I assume that they are out hunting."

"When will they back? It must getting near lunchtime." I glance at my wrist out of habit.

"Part-human, do you really think goblins care much for appropriate meal times?" He has a point, so I stay quiet. "They will most likely be back just before nightfall."

"That's ages away! What am I supposed to do until then?"

"We will find shelter nearby and you will listen to my plan."

"Great! But I have a better idea!" I don't ask for permission, I just go.

Right into the goblin camp. Grimalkin hisses at me to stop being foolish and come back but I ignore him. Instead, I stand as close to the middle of the clearing as possible without actually stepping in the fire pit and spin around, soaking every little detail in. The place smells foul, like a butcher's shop which went out of business but left all the animal carcasses inside for the next owners. Some of the tent's front flaps are open, swaying slightly in the breeze. They sway open to reveal filthy sleeping areas, unwashed blankets twisted and left in piles on the ground.

I didn't care about anything right now. I didn't care about anything except making them pay for killing Cassidy.

I spend the next five minutes blanking Grimalkin's disapproving looks and breathing in the acrid stench of the place. Then, when I was good and ready, I made my way back into the trees; leaving the camp empty of life and abandoned once more.

"Take your time part-human, it's not as if I don't enjoy waiting around for you." I'm far too busy thinking to comment. "This way, I know of a cave where we can wait." He leaps down from the branch and trots off into the trees. Glancing back once more at the camp, I follow.

...

It took me several tries and many, many fails but I finally manage to get a small fire going. I don't know why I bothered if it only benefits the cat; I am immune to the cold. Starving once again, I fish the rest of the berries out of my bag and my water bottle. The berries taste awful because they are bruised, and the small amount of water that I have left is now warm. Where is Cook and her kitchen full of brownies when you need them?

"If you are that hungry then why not catch something using your bow?" Grimm noticed the way my berries were close to making me cry.

"I can't."

"You can' do very much, can you?" This earns him a squished berry in the furry face, which - to my surprise and joy - actually manages to hit it's target! Despite what my stomach thinks, that was not a waste of a berry; that was a victory.

I get rewarded with a hiss and some time to contemplate in silence. I really want to ask what the plan is, but I know Grimm will enlighten me when it suits him. However, that's not the only thing I want to ask.

"Grimalkin-" He gives me a death glare. Sigh, I'm going to have to apologize it seems. "Look I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry I hit you in the face with a berry."

"It is not by any means forgotten, but continue with your question." Great. So he'll make me pay later rather than now.

"What's up with the Winter court? How come they know of me?"

"That, part-human, is one of those questions that might be better off unanswered for the moment."

"I want to know. It involves me, so I should know."

"Hmm... Perhaps." He sighs, before continuing. "It is a reasonably long tale, so do stay quiet; save your questions and pointless or obvious comments for the end." I nod and sit so that I'm comfortable. Once I'm finished shifting around I indicate for him to begin.

"As you already know, you are three parts Unseelie fey. Your father was-"

"And I'm the one getting told off for saying pointless or obvious things."

"Do you wish to know or not?" I nod my head eagerly and apologize for speaking. "Then I shall continue, but any more interruptions and that's it." With a long sigh, Grimm carries on.

"-a half-breed, part Unseelie fey and part human. His mother decided to keep him here - in the NeverNever - to go grow up. An odd choice especially in Winter as he could have been easily taken advantage of. He wasn't, at least not at first; your father proved himself to be a capable fighter." Memories of him I thought were long forgotten suddenly appear in my head. Ones with him fending off strange creatures with kitchen knives and ones of him using sword like icicles.  
"He grew older and made friends with a Fabian Frost, a very powerful fey who lived on the very edge of Winter; he and Queen Mab did not get along. After some time, your father then met Fabian's sister: Alyssa Frost. They fell madly in love and got married, your father was the one to change his name as he hated having the name of a human man. They were happy and had Fabian's blessing. However, your father's talents were inevitably noticed by the court and Queen Mab asked to meet him. Your father went, and became one of the rare people who caught Mab's attention. Rumours say that she tried to seduce him, but he said no because of Alyssa. Well, I'm sure you can imagine that Mab - the Queen of Winter, of all that is cold and heartless - did not take being rejected well. They say she then enchanted him, forcing him to renounce his love for Alyssa. Heartbroken Alyssa fled, and no one has seen her since. After that Mab soon grew bored of your father's affections, and she lifted the enchantment. In a rage your father left court and set about trying to find Alyssa.  
Months passed, and then it became apparent that Mab was with child and your father had not returned; many presumed him dead. However the idea of having a part-human child running around her court appalled Mab (others would no doubt see the child as a weakness to be exploited), so when the baby came she told very few and sent her off to the Frost family with the order to take care of her. Queen Mab visited as often as she could, but being a Queen meant that was rather hard. Several more months passed like this. Then one day your father returned and kidnapped the baby from the Frost's, he then vanished into the mortal world and was never seen again. When Mab found out she exiled the head of the Frost family, and told him the only way he could ever return was if he found her lost princess."

When Grimalkin finishes I sit in utter, dumbfounded silence. His story had acted like a torch inside my head, spying out all the old and forgotten memories of my childhood which had been lurking around in the dark, shadowy corners of my mind. All the missing links in my timeline suddenly filled up, creating one long almost unbroken chain. I grip my head in between my hands in shock and my eyes are so huge in realization I probably look like I have just taken my rainbow pills from the Loony Bin. There really is nothing to say. Most of my life I had believed myself to be mad, insane. Now?

"I'm the baby. I'm Queen Mab's lost princess." I whisper it, testing out the words in my unaccustomed mouth; they don't feel natural, they feel far too important for me. When I say them I feel like I'm trying to eat far too much food in one mouthful.

"Obvious comments..." Mutters Grimm. I shake my curly head back and forth slowly in disbelief. What? This cannot possibly be true.

Yet, everything fits. All the unexplained memories, my faerieness and Flint's reaction to meeting me. Even Grimalkin's interest in helping me.

"How... How are you so certain?" Please, please say your not. Pretty please.

"I am a cat." He says this like it's the most profound yet clear thing in the world. To me it explains nothing. Zilch. I lie back on the ground and close my eyes; this is mainly to block everything out so that I can think, but it's also a precaution in case those pesky tears decide show up again. I focus on my breathing, keeping it slow and steady. Once I've got this under control I begin to let the truth trickle through my brain.

THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD.

Heavy footfalls pass the outside of the cave, made a little bit quieter thanks to the stone walls protecting us. I leap to my feet, dilemma momentarily forgotten. The foot falls are joined by the raucous shouts and cheers of the passing creatures. The passing goblins. My deep rooted hatred springs into life, demanding justice and revenge. Without even thinking I grab my bow and arrow, unzip my poison bag. Then I start for the small opening, both the entrance and exit for the cave.

"Part-human, stop! You have not heard my plan!" Grimalkin's hiss is barely whispered.

"Plan!? Grimm do you seriously think I need plan for what I'm going to do! I'm going to make them pay! Their going to get what they deserve for killing Cassidy!" I only just manage to keep my furious voice quieter than a scream. I turn to leave, but Grimalkin jumps in front of me and threatens me with a set of sharpened claws.

"Listen! I will not be coming, I am no fighter. However, here is my advice and I suggest that you take it." I pause in my escape long enough for him to speak. "My plan is simple, you would not be able to follow a complicated one. Do you still have all your poisons?" I nod. "Good. One of them is highly flammable. Coat your arrow tips with it, and aim them at the fires and the lights. This will set the place on fire, eventually destroying their entire camp."

"So Cass gets killed and they get their home ruined!?" I don't even try and stay quiet this time. It doesn't matter too much; the goblins have finally passed, probably arriving back at camp right now.

"Part-human, do not let your current confusion and anger at others affect your judgement. You will only regret it later. Do what I have said and those goblins will suffer, but you will not be responsible for a massacre." When I don't reply and instead scowl at the corner of the cave, Grimm decides it's time for goodbye. "Perhaps I will see you later, part-human, if you do not let your emotions rule your head." Then he's gone and I'm left with my brain trying to escape my head because it's far too confusing and emotional in there.

In the end my burning anger overrides my confusion and propels me out of the cave and back towards the goblin camp. With a tremendous effort I am able to suppress my wild thoughts about Grimm's revelation, but I don't know how much longer I can keep it up. I keep walking. One foot in front of the other, repeat. Easy. One thought continuously runs through my head on my way there.

Seek justice? Or take revenge?

**Author's Note!**

**As always, thanks for reading! What do you think Olivia will choose? Please leave me a review! :)**


	12. Justice

Panting slightly from my speedy walking, I crouch down behind a large, thorny bush. Being mindful of the prickles so that I don't get stabbed, I lean over to my left and peer around the edge of my hiding place. The goblins are indeed back home, arguing among themselves and preparing the kills from their hunt for dinner. The big campfire in the middle, all the little campfires scattered around and some of the lanterns have been set alight; they cast the camp in flickering shades of halloween orange, the goblin's faint shadows growing and shrinking on the tent walls. More weapons have appeared next to the other ones, most covered in a coat of dark red blood. The silence which had been present before has been replaced with angry shouts, violent threats and cruel laughter. Smoke, rotten meat, unwashed bodies and fresh blood all invade my nostrils, bringing me very close to gagging to death.

_Dad was part faery, and my mum is a faery. Dad's gone and my mum turns out to be (from what I've heard) a scary, bitchy ice Queen. I'm three parts faery, one part human and my terrifying mum might have people looking for me. _

Words float into my head and create a dense fog of confusion, rage and hurt. The person I thought I was doesn't exist, I'm actually a faery princess. This almost makes me laugh madly; if I had been a normal little girl, being a faery princess would've been my dream. Trust it to be my luck to be an abnormal teenager when I find out about all this.

RIIIIIP! BANG! CRASH!

The unexpected explosion of noise from the camp causes me to nearly stand up to get a better look, before I realize that someone might see me; fortunately no one does as they are all too focused on one of the tents. It has been knocked over and the material ripped by a smaller goblin carrying far too many weapons. He looks  
scared and cowers when a much larger goblin stomps over to him. The rest of the camp form a loose circle around the pair, just like what used to happen at school when two people were going to fight. The larger goblin begins to shout, spraying spit onto the other goblin's face - I almost feel sorry for him. Cheers of encouragement burst out of the gathered crowd; this causes the larger goblin to lash out, punching his terrified victim in the face. The smaller goblin drops to the ground, armful of weapons falling out of his grasp and letting off a loud metallic ringing. The goblins let out their final insults and cackles before getting back to work, as if nothing ever happened. The smaller goblin collects all the fallen weapons and puts them with the others before returning to the ruined tent. He quickly reviews the damage and scampers off to fetch the things required to repair it.

These goblins are even barbaric and cruel to each other! Shaking slightly with repressed fury, I open up my poison bag. Thankfully the all have small paper labels attached to them by string, so finding the flammable one takes barely seconds; it has a small flame drawn on the label and a name I have idea how to pronounce. I pull the lid off and drop it carelessly to the leaf strewn ground. A pungent smell drifts out of the vial and I cautiously hold it at arms length; I don't want to cause any harm to myself. Then I take one of the arrows from my quiver and pour some of the poison onto it, taking great care to avoid any contact with my bare skin. Kneeling, I place the arrow inside the bow and get ready to take aim. I take a last quick glance at the camp to be certain no one is watching me. They aren't.

I move to the side of my bush, this gives me a clear shot of the main fire. Accuracy. Focus. Precision. I take aim. Deep breath.

_There's laughter and shouts of glee from the nearby woodland; a huddle of little grey men jump around, clapping the one with the bow on his back - praising a murderer. They see me staring, so they start forward. Numb, I give one last glance to Cassidy before I sprint back towards the mansion._

_By the time I'd finally convinced my parents that this wasn't a joke, to call an ambulance and to come help, Cass's body had been torn apart and left scattered. A pinky finger off to the right and an ear off to the left, shreds of blood stained fabric littering the ground like confetti; the gory aftermath of a bomb explosion._

Is this fair? Is this really justice? If the goblins even have half a brain, they will be able to flee from the camp before any of them get seriously hurt. How is that right? Cass never got the chance to save herself, she got killed. Shouldn't they suffer a similar fate?

_"Part-human, do not let your current confusion and anger at others affect your judgement. You will only regret it later. Do what I have said and those goblins will suffer, but you will not be responsible for a massacre."_

Water leaks from my eyes and I shake my head furiously. Stupid tears! My arms are getting sore from staying in this position for so long, it's a miracle none of the goblins has spotted me. But I don't know what to do! What should I choose? I think they deserve to die for they did, but could I live with myself afterward?

_There's always The Bridge. Besides those goblins_ _do deserve it - they're murderers._

Such a quiet voice, barely above a whisper, but it's right. It's persuasive.

What would Cass want?

And suddenly I realize that the persuasive voice is wrong. Cassidy wouldn't want anyone to die for her, she wouldn't want me to become a killer for her. A small pained gasp escapes me. I miss her so much! They way she always had that wicked grin on her face, eager to get up to mischief. They way she almost always managed to get me to help her create mischief. All those times I was unwell and she would come over and watch reruns on the television with me. How we were constantly having our own friendly competition with each other, from archery to seeing who could fit the most sweeties in their mouth at once. How we laughed together, often over nothing. I miss having someone who genuinely thought I wasn't mad and that I was just different. Special. Unique. The tears have made my vision all blurry, and I feel them running down my cheeks. My heart swells with grief, almost as if it's absorbing my tears like a sponge.

Cassidy had been wrong about me; I was mad. Completely and utterly insane. I was okay with that now though because I understood why. But it was Cass who was the different one, the special one and the unique one. I wouldn't ever find another one of her, but that's a good thing; no one will ever be able to replace her. I think the reason I was so angry was because I missed her. I was scared and lonely. Weak. So I needed something to take my anger out on - the goblins. I won't ever forgive them, but I'm getting over what happened. I'm going to get over it tonight.

It's time to finally say goodbye to Cassidy and put this nightmare to rest.

Deep breath out. The arrow flies right through the main fire, getting set alight before it lands on the tent behind. Not revenge. Justice.

The tent explodes into violent shades of orange and yellow, panicked screams fill the air. I send another arrow, this time it smashes one of the lanterns and sets another tent on fire. The goblins scurry around, shouting to each other and frantically grabbing belongings or going to fetch water. They're not quick enough though, soon I have the whole camp up in flames and the goblins have almost all fled.

I send the final arrow into the chaos. It zooms through the smoky air and passes over some of the flames, catching fire itself. Then it hits the final lantern and the shattered glass falls to the ground; the glass reflects the orangey glow of destruction as it cascades down, looking like fiery hailstones. With the smashing of last lantern the remaining goblins disappear into the trees shouting out swear words and brandishing their rescued weapons in fury.

I'm breathing heavily by now and have began to sweat because of the heat. The whole camp has been transformed by the deadly flames, no longer is it dull and simple. Now it's a mass of dancing and twisting flames, a celebration of sorts. Black smoke is escaping upwards, giving away the position of the fire and making it hard to see the starry sky above. A few pathways still remain visible through the flames, but every so often a mischievous flame flicks it's way out threatening to catch anything that might be there and pull them into the dancing fires. Crackles and snaps break through the continuous mumbling roar of the fire.

Justice. I pull my quiver over my shoulder and hold my bow loosely in one hand. With my free hand I wipe away one final tear. Goodbye Cassidy.

Feeling released and free I turn to leave the flames behind, vanish into the Wyldwood. Although it was never going to be that simple was it?

"H-HELP! ANYBODY!" Violent coughing and wheezing. "I'M STUCK! HELP!"

One of the goblins was trapped in my fire.

**Author's Note!**

**What did you think? I'd really appreciate it if you would leave me a review. Please! :)**


	13. Revenge?

Just when I'd made my mind up about not killing anyone, someone decides to go and get trapped in the burning camp. That's my luck for you. I stand on the spot, debating what to do and panicking. Going into the camp might be a suicide mission, but I can't walk away and let the goblin die. Can I?

Yelling and swearing in frustration I dash into the flames, making sure I duck my head and stick to the remaining paths. It had been hot when I was standing at the treeline, however in here it was a furnace. Sweat beads replace salty tears, and my grip on my bow becomes slick because of my sweaty palms. Fearsome flames dart across the path, there and then gone. Smoke is clogging up the air making breathing very difficult and little pieces of ash drift around, some coming far too close to touching me.

"HELP! HELP!" The strained pleas are coming from somewhere up ahead, near where I believe the tent that had gotten damaged had stood. Cursing, I use the paths to make my way closer. My legs are jittery and I nearly stumble once or twice. I don't though, which is fortunate because one fall could lead to an extremely painful injury or worse.

"Hey!" I yell, no where to being loud enough to be heard. "HEY! I'M COMING! KEEP SHOUTING SO I CAN FIND YOU!" I shout out, using my hands to cup my mouth so that I'm louder.

"OVER HERE!" They yell back. My eyes start to cry in a feeble attempt to rid themselves of the smoke and ash.

I continue to sprint up the same path as I'm positive that the owner of the desperate voice is at the end of it. Mischievous flames dart out to catch me, but I dodge to the left and then to the right. Moving onward towards the shouts and horrible coughing. The smoke isn't rising quick enough so to try and stop myself inhaling some of the deadly smoke I pull the front of my shirt up over my mouth and nose. Only mildly better.

"HURRY! PLEASE!" They sound weaker, like they're giving up.

"ON MY WAY!" I see the faint outlines of crumbling wooden and bone supports, burning material clinging to them like the meat on a half eaten chicken leg. A shadow moves, blocked slightly by one of the beams.

_What have I done?_

**They aren't dead yet!**

_Yet!? What if I can't save them?_

**Pffft! Since when did we care so much about a goblin!?**

_Since we figured out that killing them isn't what Cass would've wanted._

**Cassidy's dead, it doesn't matter what she thinks now! Besides, an eye for an eye - they killed Cass we kill one of them, fair.**

_It's wrong!_

**Is it?**

_It..._

"AHHHHH" The goblin's scream interrupts my inner argument, the remaining supports seem to be falling.

"HOLD ON!" Three more strides. Two. The support falls! One!

Nothing. Then scorching pain on the upper part of my arm, almost at my shoulder. I reach for what I think - hope - is the goblin's arm and wrap my fingers around it in a death grip. Pull! Tumbling backwards away from the burning tent, I yank the trapped goblin with me. He winces in pain and wheezes, black gunk coming in coughs out of his mouth. I hold back a wail of agony; my arm is causing me excruciating pain!

The rest of the tent collapses spewing ash and glowing embers. I shuffle backwards on my clumsy hands and feet, disturbing leaves and dragging the trembling figure with me. The flames prance around the remains of the tent, devouring them quickly like hungry lions at the zoo. The air is a little easier to breath down at this level, but if I don't get the goblin and myself out of here we will both end up eaten by the growing fire.

Ignoring the nasty pain on my arm as best I can, I haul the goblin to it's feet. As soon as I let go however, it immediately topples to the ground mumbling.

"What? We haven't got time! We need to move!" I try and grab it's scrawny arm again but it waves it out of the way.

"Too tired..." It mutters, eyelids closing slowly. Oh no! I stomp my aching foot in mad panic and grab fistfuls of my curly hair in vexation. I will have blood on my hands if I leave this goblin here.

Do I have a choice? Am I strong enough to carry it?

Using my remaining strength I scoop him up, and toss him over my non injured shoulder. Lighter than I had anticipated, but still quite a heavy load. Digging deep I find the energy and will to keep going, to follow the disappearing path back to the safety of the treeline. The fire senses that we're escaping and it tries to prevent us by shooting embers at my feet and belching more smoke into the air. A sleepy haze starts to take over me but I keep going, determined. One foot in front of the other, repeat. Easy.

Breathing is laborious and my limbs are moving slower, the effects of inhaling too much poisonous smoke. Almost there though. Almost free. I can discern the twisting trees and jagged bushes of the woods. The goblin has gone limp and my upper arm still screams out in agonizing torture. I'm no where near brave enough to look at my injury.

A few more steps, that's all.

CRACK!

Movement to my right, a large animal bone is close to falling over and blocking the path. Stopping our escape. Trapping us in fiery doom.

THUD!

The bone lands behind us giving off a spray of embers, seconds earlier and it would have caught us and took us with it. I let out a breath of relief and stumble the last steps into the darkness of the woods.

Safety.

Choking and gasping for clean air, I gently lay the still goblin down to the cool ground. Please be alive, please. Shakily I kneel down, desperate for a brief break before we run away from the scorching flames. Slowly getting my breathing back to normal I build up the courage to inspect my wounded arm, the pain of it growing harder and harder to forget about the more every other part of me returns to normal. On the count of three. One, two and three...

"Ahhh... Oh my... Shit! AHHH!" I wave my arms about in wild fear and agony. It makes me want to be sick. I got burned, it must have been that toppling support the goblin was about to get crushed by. I stuff a hand into my mouth to stop me from wailing any louder, but on the inside it's deafening. I don't even have water with me to pour on it; I left it all back at the cave.

"Are y-you okay?" I must have returned the goblin from the dead with my screaming as it's him who his speaking. He stirs on the ground, opening his eyes and staring at me worriedly. I just bite my lower lip in reply; there is no way I'm showing any weakness in front of one of them.

Although there is something different about this goblin compared to the other ones, besides the fact that he's covered in thick black ash and has several burns. I don't know for certain, but I think he's the small goblin who ruined one of the tents earlier. His scruffy clothes - no rags - are singed, torn and blackened. He wears no shoes on his rather large feet (Biv would approve of those feet, I'm certain) and he has only a small tuft of messy hair atop his ugly face. His brown eyes are widened in concern, all puffy and weepy from the smoke. He tries to reach out a hand to me, but I snatch it away causing the violent pain to get even more unbearable. So much so that I slip up and let out a wild howl of pain.

"Ssshh! Please! They will hear you!" The goblin sits up and shushes me urgently. Why would he be so bothered about them finding us?

"Look, goblin, I'm in agony and I really need some help, so maybe yelling will get someone who is usefuls attention! OUCH!" The goblin has just stood up and touched my injury, seeing what damage I've obtained. "Get off of me! Go away and leave me alone!" I scream and leap to my unstable feet, brandishing my bow at the goblin in an effort to warn him away.

"But - But Miss! You just saved me! I- I owe you my life!" The goblin pleads with me and tries to pull part of my charred sleeve to get me sit back down.

"I said leave me alone! I don't need your help, _goblin_! I'm fine on my own!" Spit sprays out of my mouth like poison from a snake's, and then I stumble off holding back any more angry outbursts and suppressing tears of pain. I need to find Grimalkin.

The goblin stutters and hops from foot like he's still dodging flames, before finally running off in the opposite direction. Good riddance! I certainly don't need or want the help of a filthy, murdering goblin.

...

I do however require someone's help. I've been tottering around aimlessly barely keeping hold of my bow and arrows, the wound on my arm getting far, far worse. It still feels like my arm is on fire, the flames eating away my flesh and gnawing their way to my bone. Dizziness sets in, accompanied by more hazy eyesight and an awful headache. It gets so bad that I eventually stop walking, I just stand on the spot swaying like a palm tree in strong winds.

Then I hear it, the gentle trickle of a stream. I cup a hand to my ear and locate the area I should be heading as best as I can. Somewhere off to my left. I think. Zigzagging and tripping, I try and make my way to the stream but fail because of a small rock jutting out of the ground; I missed it because it was wearing a thick mossy coat, not because I'm finding it hard to see properly. I land on the ground with a harsh THUD and my injury screams loudly in protest. My hands are quivering and I relinquish my hold on my bow, letting it lie next to me on the ground. I think a spider or some other creepy crawly wanders over one of my legs but I don't have the energy or courage to check. When I try and shout out in hopes Grimalkin is nearby, my voice comes out quiet and hoarse - I can barely hear it!

A little, minuscule voice in my head is yelling out; it's telling me to keep shouting, to get up and go to the stream. But it's lost amid the tiredness and pain, eventually they drown out the little voice completely and tell me to give in, to close my eyes.

And, because it's easy and painless, I do.

Only for a moment though. Grimalkin could never allow me any more than a moment of peace and calm; a mere moment of peace and calm for me was far too much for Grimm to endure as it was, any longer and he would go from his usual self - grumpy - to downright insufferable.

"Part-human, do get up. I did not waste such a large amount of my time for you to go and die. How will you ever repay my favour then, hmm?" He appears right next to my head and cleans his paw lazily, as if he thinks me lying here is all some dramatic act for attention.

"Miss! Miss! I know you didn't want my help, but I thought I'd better go and fetch someone else to help you! Are you alright? Miss?" The goblin I saved from the flames feet come into my line of blurry vision, followed by his upside down face as he tries to check if I am well. My foggy muddled mind can't quite compute a goblin being nice to me - aren't they all atrocious monsters?

"Wa..wat..." I can't even utter one simple request, but Grimm understands or perhaps just thinks that water will improve my sorry condition.

"Goblin, if you want to be of use to her then go and get her water, as much as you can. She will need some to pour on that wound. There is a stream-"

"Only a short walk off this way! I'll be right back Miss!" The goblin dashes off eagerly, completely oblivious to Grimm's annoyance at having his sentence finished for him and elated now that he has a way of helping me. Although I don't really know how much help the water will be, I feel ghastly.

"Perhaps you should try and sit up, part-human." Grimm says it in a way that makes sound more like a snide remark than a helpful suggestion. Irritation and anger begin to appear inside me, glowing faint shades of red and orange through the thick fog. They give me back some strength; enough strength for me to regain control of my tongue and be able to speak.

"Yeah, I'll sit up Grimm. That's not painful or anything, considering I've just been running through a burning camp and rescuing goblins!" I do manage to sit up, but this is only so that I can scowl down at Grimalkin.

"If I recall correctly, which I most certainly do, you were the one to set the camp on fire and it was only one goblin you saved, not several as seem to be implying."

"You were the one who told me to set the bloody place on fire! You said none of them were going to end up dead!"

"None of them are dead as far as I am aware."

"But they could've been, if I hadn't went back and got that goblin out!"

"I never said that none of them would die, I only said that you wouldn't cause a massacre Actually, I would not have been surprised if one or two of them had gotten caught in the flames; I am surprised, however, that you went back for one." He looks at me questioningly.

"I realized that it wasn't what Cass would have wanted, and I should have been doing it for her all along." Do my smoke confused eyes deceive me, or does Grimalkin genuinely look proud!? Before I can ask, the goblin comes back with the water, but-

SPLASH!

He trips over a branch and spills most of the water he had collected - is that my water bottle? - over my face. That gets rid of the confusing cloud, let me tell you! On the downside it also sharpens the pain from my arm, making me grimace.

"Sorry! Sorry, Miss! I'll get more! Hold on!" The goblin panics and picks himself back up, ready to sprint back to the stream. I stop him.

"It's okay. That actually helped a little I think! Do you think you could help get to the stream, it might do my burn some good to have running water on it for a while..." I look at my injury skeptically; I don't think that anything can really improve the state its in.

"Yes Miss! Of course!" He practically jumps to my side and waits for me to stand; I do so shakily.

"One more thing." I say, looking into his sooty, honest face; he seems so young and innocent compared to the other goblins.

"Anything Miss!"

"Stop calling me Miss, my name is Olivia."

"Yes Mis- Olivia." He says it shyly and really pronounces the 'O' and the 'A'.

"You will not be able to stand much longer, so I would get going, part-human." Grimalkin heads off, leading the way and swishing his bushy tail.

Knowing that there is no point in replying, I start stumbling off after him, the helpful little goblin following at my side. It is like he thinks he will be able to catch me should I fall; not that I would crush him instead.

I glance again at my burn on the way to the stream:Justice is liberating, revenge is ugly and painful.

**Author's Note!**

**As usual, thanks for reading and please review! They really encourage me to keep writing! :)**

**There is still a little more to come, just in case anyone thinks this is the end. **


	14. Debts and Promises

Even the shortest of walks feels like a marathon when one is painfully wounded, stumbling and rather prone to falling over their own (pathetically average-sized!) feet. As usual Grimm trots off a head, leading the way like some snotty tour guide. The goblin toddles along by my side, eyes constantly darting to me in worry. The pleasing sound of trickling water is growing louder and louder, closer and closer.

Suddenly the leaf strewn ground turns muddy and rocky; we have reached the stream. I practically fall into the slowly flowing water, spraying the helpful goblin and Grimalkin with refreshing droplets. In thanks I receive an irritated hiss and yet more concerned glances, but I am too relieved to care. At first the water makes my burn scream louder in agony but then it soon settles down and begins to cool off, eventually fading to a constant, bearable pain. Ash and dirt turn the relatively clear water a murky grey, making it appear almost like a small river of dense fog. The stream is relatively shallow; when I'm sitting it only just reaches my tired shoulders.

"Part-human, remember that we cannot stay long; the other goblins will be out for blood." Says Grimm.

"Mm-hmm..." I say, then sigh and slowly sink lower into the water. Down here the world is peaceful and is filled with a noticeable silence. Green plants sway in the weak current much like grass does in a light, summery breeze. Little coloured pebbles cover the floor, some pure black and others swirling mixtures of vibrant rainbows. The cold water flows over me, removing the dirt and sweat from my body, clothes and brown curls; removing the evidence of my crimes. The thought of returning to the surface for air is a depressing one, but one I will have to act on as my lungs are beginning to complain. I savour the last few moments of watery quiet, my emotions getting pulled away from me by the flow of the stream. I don't put up much of a struggle to hold on to them - which is lucky as the current is quite feeble - as they only seem to weigh me down and cause more problems. When the final strands of bitter sadness get swirled away from my body I begin my rise  
back to the surface. I raise a pale hand slightly in anticipation, much like the way someone falling puts out a hand to shove the thing they are about to impact with away. My finger tips break the surface, abandon the water's calm.

Piercing pain. Eyes bulging in shock. Sharp needles into my ankle. No, not needles but pointed nails. I almost shout out for help before I realize that would require the use of breathable oxygen, a substance which I am currently separated from. Shadows form over the surface, bobbing in panic. Grimalkin and the goblin?

A forceful tug on my ankle hauls me closer to the pebbles and further along the stream. Dashes of red mix in with the slightly grey tinged water now. Blood. My blood.

I need to do something. From previous experiences I know that Grimm is not really a rescuing kind of cat, and even if he were, he probably would draw the line at diving into a stream after me; cat's notoriously hate water after all. Conscious of my depleted supply of air, I know that if I'm going to save myself it needs to happen now.

SMACK!

I kicked out as hard as I could with both legs, my logic being that if I used two legs I had a higher chance of inflicting damage to my target. Success! My free foot managed to smack into something with surprisingly weak arms: I'm fairly sure I felt it snap. A strange greeny colour was now mingling in the water with my red blood, perhaps my kidnapper had green blood? The nails release me and I certainly don't hang around. I quickly place both my feet onto the colourful pebbles, pushing away the stings in my ankle and the ache in my upper arm, and propel myself the short distance upward.

Gasping I break the surface to find the goblin in tears and Grimalkin scowling at it disgustedly. Well, the snot dripping out of the goblin's nose maybe was a bit much, but I would at least try and comfort him instead of casting him filthy looks. Both of them turn to see me splashing around and gulping in air. I walk slowly back to where they sit, my drenched clothing slowing me down and attempting to drag back under the surface. Arms trembling I pull myself out of the stream, aware that if I dally too long the creature that grabbed ankle will return for a second try. The goblin tries to help but I shake him off; he is far too small to be of much help pulling me out.

"Mi- Olivia! What happened? Are you alright?" The goblin's brown eyes see my bleeding ankle and he gasps. "Your ankle! Oh, Olivia what happened?"

"Be quiet goblin. Part-human, speak. What happened to you?" Grimalkin queries, no hint of sympathy in his voice.

"Something, grabbed..." I breathe in deeply, lungs still not quite refilled. Mind slightly sharper now it has had it's required supply of oxygen, I speak again. "We need to move. Something grabbed my ankle and tried to pull me away! Hurry, before it comes back!" I spring away from the edge of the stream, hoping to get some  
distance between me and the creature I kicked.

"Olivia, what about your ankle? Isn't it sore?" The goblin asks whilst also backing away from the stream.

"Actually, it stings but I think it's only surface cuts..." I say, looking at my blood smeared ankle; it had five even cuts in it, each about an inch in length. Apart from the stinging, my ankle seemed fine. Phew, my severe injury count remains at a grand total of one.

"Part-human, goblin, follow me. We will be safe in the cave from both goblins and hungry water fey." Grimalkin sets off with his usual air of superiority.

"Come on then gob- You haven't told me your name! What is it?" I ask the goblin as he hurriedly grabs my battered water bottle and cautiously refills it.

"Nook. That's what everyone calls me."

"Nice to meet you Nook." I am about to shake his small, bony hand when something explodes out of the water.

"Girrrlyss gotsss awaysss! Can'tsss goessss, mmmy dinnnersss!" The awful creature which had tried to pull me away down the stream was now lying flat on it's stomach on the rocks and mud which lined the side of the stream. It lashed out it's skeletal hands and hissed more, but once my initial terror passed I noticed that all Nook and I would have to do was walk away. Why? The creature had a fishtail covered in shiny blue scales instead of legs; terrific for swimming, but absolutely useless for walking.

"Whatever, come on Nook." I grab Nook's shaking arm and start to head after Grimalkin. Before we disappear from the creature's view I turn my head back and stick out my tongue, recognized everywhere as the universal sign for HA HA!

...

After quite a lot of trekking and diving behind trees to hide ourselves from other fey, Nook and I found Grimm's cave. Struggling through the small opening we emerged on the inside to find Grimalkin sitting lazily, looking like he had no concerns in the world at all. The remains of my fire are still here, along with all of the  
supplies I left. Deciding that dirty clothes are better than soaking clothes at this precise moment, I ask for some privacy to change. Nook obliges immediately and turns to face the other wall with both of his eyes tight shut; Grimm on the other hand rolls his eyes dramatically and sighs before vanishing from sight.

Once I'm changed I get to work on making another fire. I have far better luck this time - it only took me nine attempts! - and soon the dark cave is lit by the flickering orange glow of the flames. I stare at the fire, transfixed. Before today I had always liked looking at a campfire, something about them seemed cosy and they often made me think of toasting marshmallows. Now, after what I had done, I doubt that I will ever be able to be at ease around flames. Even a small campfire like this.

Nook appears to feel the same as he keeps a safe distance from the fire, sitting in the half shadows. He is so small, and innocent really. How could I have ever contemplated killing him? He had been nothing but kind and thoughtful since, but I suppose that has something to do with a life debt or something. Saving people seemed to mean a lot here.

Does a life debt still count if the life saver was the one who put the life savee in life threatening danger?

I posed this question to Nook as I handed him the bottle of water; he must be thirsty after the journey we had to find this cave again.

"Wait, Olivia, I don't think I understand you. You are saying that you were the one who set the camp on fire? But that is impossible!" He stares at me in disbelief and hope. Hope that what I am saying is all some elaborate joke. I consider lying, but I Nook has a right to know the truth. Even if it is painful to tell him it.

"I did set the place on fire Nook. It was me."

"No."

"Yes."

"I do not believe you! You liar!" He yells, and for a moment he reminds of a scared toddler. How old is Nook anyway?

"I'm not lying to you Nook, after the way you've helped me you deserve the truth. And the truth is that I set the place on fire."

"Accident! You didn't mean to surely? You are sorry, Olivia, aren't you?" Oh, Nook. I wish I was, maybe that way I could argue that I am at least a half decent person. But I'm not, and I learned long ago that there is no point in wishing for impossible things.

"I want to say it was Nook, but no. I set that place on fire on purpose." He looks shocked, hurt. "And - whilst I'm sorry, so sorry, for nearly really hurting you - I am not sorry for doing it." Now he looks devastated. He leaps to his large feet and darts to the cave opening.

"Wait Nook! Let me explain! I had my reasons, I promise! And if you still hate me later, that is fine, but listen first! Please!" I have ended up standing myself as I beg, desperate for him to hear me out.

"I can't really say no, the life debt I owe and all, so..." He nods stiffly. I decide to try and be quick.

However I seem to have gotten into the habit of doing the opposite of what I intend to do.

...

Tear stains streaked across my cheeks and I looked at Nook, waiting for his reaction to my story. Nothing, his little face remained expressionless.

"Please, Nook. Can you forgive me for nearly killing you?" Still nothing. "Please?" A long pause. Then.

"Yes."

"Oh, Nook! Than- I'm grateful! I'm so grateful! And sorry, to you at least!" Whilst I sit up straighter with relief, Nook slumps lower. Depressed by something.

"They did deserve it. They're awful, especially to me."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm... I'm sort of a... strange goblin. I don't want to be like them, they're so..." He stops, raking his brain for the correct word.

"Barbaric?" I offer.

"Yeah, I guess. And cruel. I didn't - still don't - like hurting things, and going on hunts. Oh, I'm also terrible with weapons. A year ago I nearly took off someone's head with a sword by accident!"

"They didn't like you?"

"I... yes." He sniffles. Oh dear! I was barely controlling my own watery eyes as it was! "They always picked on me and bullied me and beat me up and made me do the worst jobs and..." Here his sniffles turn into real cries and I end up awkwardly comforting him. This is more Peri's sort of thing than my mine. We sit in quiet for awhile, at least until Grimm interrupts.

"Goblin, do try and stop crying. Some of us would rather like to sleep." Grimm complains.

"Oh, shut up Grimm! Can't you see he's upset! The last thing he needs is a lecture from you, fleabag!" I shout.

"No, Olivia it's fine. I'm glad actually; glad to finally be away from them!" Grimalkin tires of both of us, and sighs loudly before curling up to sleep.

"But, what will you do? Aren't still quite young? Can you cope on your own?" I ask.

"I'm roughly two and a half human years old, so not that young!" He really was still a toddler! Or were goblins like dogs, one of our years is the equivalent to seven of theirs? "And I won't be alone! I will have you! I owe you my life, so for now I am at your service!"

"Wait! What! Nook you don't understand-"

"I suppose you are set on keeping me awake part-human? The goblin owes you a life debt; you can ask him to do anything and he must do it, if he fails to do so, he could end up dead."Grimalkin rejoins the conversation.

"Dead!" I exclaim.

"Yes. But that is unlikely to happen so long as you make sure never to order him to complete a task that is too dangerous for him."

"See, Olivia! It will be fine!" Nook says,wiping away his tears and smiling.

"But Nook... I... I'm not... staying." I whisper. Both he and Grimm look at me strange. "I need to go back to my world. The human world. I have people who will be worried about me." I hope, and if they don't think I'm dead.

"But what about me? And you're a faerie! You belong here!" Argues Nook.

"I don't know where I belong, Nook. I think that's my problem." I reach out a hand and place it on his shoulder. "Grimm do you know a way for me to get back home, preferably close to somewhere where I'm from?"

"Of course I know that, part- human! There is a trod not far from here that will take you straight onto your adopted parents estate I believe."

"Good, Nook I'm-" Nook doesn't let me finish.

"Sleep on it first! Please!" He looks desperate and I can't stand to upset him even more.

"Fine I'll sleep on it. I promise." He gasps and too late I realize the magnitude of what I have just said. Shit. Oh well, I can keep this promise easily. "I will tell you my decision in the morning. Okay?" He nods happily before making himself comfortable on my supply bag, which I had left lying a safe distance from the fire.

"Night Grimalkin." I say, but of course there is no reply; Grimalkin has already disappeared.

Stay or go?

**Author's Note!**

**Sorry this chapter has taken a while, I'd love to say I had writers block but really I have just been being incredibly lazy lately! Sorry! Any reviews would be great! Hope you enjoyed! :)**


	15. Consequences To Come

"I'm going." I'd been mentally preparing myself for Nook's reaction all night instead of sleeping, but the pain and confusion which settled on his face after my announcement still managed to make my insides squirm. Guilt.

"Are you sure?" He takes great care to keep his voice neutral but little stabs of hurt still slip through and hit me. Hard.

"Yes. There are things I've got to do, people I've got to speak to." I say simply, adding a confident nod. I am sure now of what I want. All it took was nearly killing myself and others to realize it. Typical. I won't elaborate further as there is no point in dragging this out; I've always hated farewells.

"Fine." Nook says, voice tight. He holds his composure for a whole second longer before breaking into snotty sniffles and salty tears. Bottling up my own emotions and hiding them someplace safe in my mind, I go over and sit next to him, patting him gently on the shoulder. Grimm sighs tiredly at us and decides that there are far more interesting things to witness outside the cave, like watching grass grow. To punish me for leaving him Nook leaps into my lap and hugs me around the middle tightly; I'll probably have snot and wet patches on my shirt now too, I might as well have set out to create a collage of filth on it. Feeling awful and immensely awkward (how can anybody think hugs are comforting!?) I suffer through Nook's outburst, knowing that I completely deserve it.

After several minutes his sobs have turned into shaky hiccups and his face has tear stains running down it. He musters a watery smile and releases me from his hug, then shuffles backwards slightly so that we now sit facing one another. His eyes, though; still swirling with pain, hurt, fear and sadness. I put those emotions there.

But I can't stay here, in faeryland. It took jumping off The Bridge -_ jumping off The Bridge! What was I thinking!? - _to remember that it wasn't my fault that Cassidy was dead. That I was different. Special. Maybe even unique. Most definitely mad and utterly insane, but not necessarily in a bad way. I had learned so much here, had so many confusing half truths and distorted, blurry memories sorted out. Answered. However, it seemed that with every piece of impossible truth I learned I also gained yet another question, another strange memory. This place - the NeverNever - has so many truths wrapped up and hidden away, all just waiting for me to come along and find them. But before I do start a wild treasure hunt I want to get my normal, equally confusing, human problems solved. I want explanations from Carla and Henry, I want to see their estate - my former home - one last time. I want to visit Cass's grave, tell her what has happened; she will no doubt have  
some funny remark or comforting words to share with me. I want, maybe need, to get all these other things straightened out before I begin to think about these new parts of me. The magic. The crazy land. The fact I'm part faerie.

"Nook, I hope you can understand. My life has been so... disjointed and confusing. Coming here has cleared a lot of it up, but there is still a lot left that doesn't even make the tiniest bit of sense. I need to go back so I can start to piece everything together." He still looks incredibly depressed, but he tries very hard to cover it up and almost succeeds. "I know you want to repay your life debt and all, but honestly as far as I'm concerned that doesn't count since I was the one who put you need of lifesaving." I try to comfort him, but my words only seem to make things worse.

"But, Olivia, what will happen if you get into trouble and I can't help? I'm not as fussed about being by myself, but how am I supposed to help you if you go back to the mortal world and I stay here?" He looks genuinely worried about this, and waits expectantly for an answer. Ummm...

"If she finds herself in need of your assistance - which is highly likely - she could use a summoning on you, goblin." Grimalkin obviously tired of watching grass grow and returned to join in our conversation. Alerting us to his return in the usual way: by saying something that is complete gibberish to me.

"A summoning? Care to explain?" I ask.

"A summoning, part-human, can be used by a fey who is owed a favour or debt by another fey. All you would have to do is summon, both verbally and mentally, the goblin when you are in need of him. He then must come to you no matter what." Explains Grimm, sounding very fed up. But perhaps he has just offered me a way to put Nook's mind at rest?

"Nook, would you agree to that?" I turn to face him again as I ask this.

"Agree to what?" He replies, eyes widened in puzzlement.

"To what Grimm just said; that if I ever need your help, I can use a summoning on you." I say. Nook appears to ponder on my idea for a few moments, hand on chin and eyes raised to the ceiling. Then he responds.

"Yes, I agree Olivia. If you ever need me, summon me." His sigh is heavy with resignation but his weak smile grows in strength. I will come back and see him, I will.

"Fantastic! Grimm, you can take me back now!" I say exuberantly. I shock myself by how much I want to go back, but I really want everything to make sense and going back to where I grew up will offer me vital answers. It is better, in my opinion, to start looking for them in familiar places than looking for them in completely new and potentially life-threatening ones.

_And you're not ready to meet your real mum yet..._

I squish this voice in my head much like how an arachnophobic deals with a spider. I don't have the strength to deal with those types of thoughts right now; I am doubtful I ever will.

"No part-human, I do not think I will take you right this instant." Says Grimm smugly, enjoying my look of annoyance.

"Why not?" I ask.

"Because, thanks to the goblin and yourself, I never got much of a night's sleep. I will take you back to the mortal world once I have slept for an adequate amount of time." He flicks his tail lazily, and dares me with his eyes to argue. Biting hard on my lip, I refrain from complaining.

Grimm precedes to curl up into a ball and instantly falls asleep. How is it that cat's manage that? To be able to fall asleep anywhere?

"Oh, and part-human, a fire would be nice." I consider cooking Grimalkin on the fire for the briefest of moments before deciding that the information he has is more valuable to me than the satisfaction I would get from burning him. Hopefully, if Grimalkin sleeps well, I will be back to what I am familiar with by the end of the day.

...

"This-" I gesture to the thing in front of me. "cannot be my way back."

"Yes, part-human, it is." Says Grimm with an exaggerated eye roll.

It took us just over an hour of fighting our way through the Wyldwood to reach here. Here being the cluster of trees and bushes that stand in front of us. They form a very tight, protective circle around a tiny piece of ground; no fallen leaves or broken twigs litter the ground inside the cluster, it is empty of mess. It looks like the patch of ground makes some kind star shape, all jagged edges and unnaturally straight lines. I see no obvious entry to the tiny clearing and I don't think the odds are with me in a fight with one of the bushes, which are armed with razor like thorns. Although I also doubt the chances of all three of us - Grimalkin, Nook and I - being able to fit into the clearing; it's so small! In the center of the protected ground is dark spot, a tiny little crack in the otherwise flawless ground.

_How_ is _this_ meant to take me to Carla and Henry's estate!?

"It will work, Olivia! My tribe uses it every so often!" Nook speaks up, a first since we left the confines of the cave. He looks at me encouragingly, nodding his burnt and bruised head.

"How exactly?" I direct my question to Grimm and Nook; both seem to have some prior experience with this specific cluster of trees.

"Must I explain everything?" Grimm exhales with a sigh. "You must simply fall through the crack."

"Ohh! Right! That seems totally obvious now, Grimm!" I scowl as I let the sarcasm fill my voice. "Only problem: I'm far too big!"

Nook at least has the decency to stifle his chuckles at my statement, Grimalkin is not so considerate of my feelings.

"Just stand on the crack Olivia. It will work." Nook reassures and motions for me to go. Shaking my curly head I give up on trying to understand this place; logic and the NeverNever are clearly complete strangers. As I predicted, climbing over the thick bushes and squeezing through the slight gaps left by the trees proves both  
difficult and painful. Once I receive yet another stinging cut to one of my bloody hands I take a moment to stop and think. There has to be something to push the wall of bushes out of the way with to save my sore hands...

The ladle!

Smiling I pull it out of my bag and pass it from my left hand to my right hand, testing it's weight. Then I jab it around the side of one of the bushes and use pull the bushes thorny branches to the one side; it reluctantly opens up a very slender gap in the barricade and I eagerly slip my way through, obtaining only a few more scratches. Nook scurries through after me and to make space for Grimm I let him clamber up onto my shoulders. Nook now safely up high, Grimalkin strolls through my gap with all the speed of a relaxed snail. Oh how I wish I could release my firm grip on the ladle and let the bushes branches spring back into place; they could quite possibly smack Grimalkin to the other side of the NeverNever.

Once we're all through I step onto the crack, glancing to see if Grimm approves. He nods.

Or at least that is what I think he would've done had I not suddenly found myself sinking rapidly into the ground. Down, down, down. Nook's bony hands grasp tightly around my throat, successfully strangling my startled scream. A frantic blink separates the twisting trees of the Wyldwood and darkness. Another blink separates darkness and a blanket of green grass.

Regret bubbles inside. I had planned to take one final look at the Wyldwood before leaving in hopes of committing it to memory. No such luck, as Nook and I seem to have found ourselves lying sprawled on lush grass under a picturesque cloudy blue sky. I sit up cautiously and note that right next to us are several large trees, oak if I am not mistaken. Moving my limbs and turning my head from side to side I try to locate any injuries; I am fortunate as I seem to have no new ones to join the cuts on my ankle and the nasty burn on my arm.

"Sore landing?" Grimalkin has appeared in front of me, his all too familiar smirk at home on his amused face.

"You are terrible at explaining things, I hope you know that fleabag." I mutter darkly before turning to see if Nook survived our arrival.

He has, although he does appear mildly dazed and ever so slightly queasy. Before I can speak he mumbles something, but it is too quiet for my ears to pick up.

"Sorry, Nook. What did you say?" I ask.

"I said, are we at the right place?" Nook darts his eyes around and ignores - or perhaps he is immune to Grimm's reactions? - fleabag's offended 'hmph!'

He does however pose a good question. Are we on Carla and Henry's estate, my old home? I glance around myself to check.

Yes. We have arrived in the right place. A vast sheet of healthy green spreads out around us, broken up on occasion by a patch of trees standing closely together like a group of old gossiping woman. I can make out a block of magnificent stone: Carla and Henry's mansion. Several fancy cars proudly pose in the large drive way  
and hiding in between them all is one, lonely motorbike; the black sheep of the flock. And there, merely a short jog away, is the archery range.

The last time I had been there, the remains of Cassidy's body had decorated the grounds; now it was tidy, the gardeners had recently trimmed the grass and not even a stray autumn leaf ruined it's perfection. The familiar targets hadn't moved, some still looked slightly off centre from where a particularly forceful shot had struck them. I stare at it, unable to coincide the images warring for my attention. Every time I blink the scene of Cass's murder flashes into my mind, bloody and tinged with painful grief; then it is replaced with what exists now when my eyelids open again. The place just seems so peaceful, but I find that this comforts me. The place of Cassidy's demise should be much like what her final resting place is like, filled with that strange atmosphere which makes people fall into respectful quiet.

"Yes Nook. This is the right place. Grimm, I'm very grateful." My voice is not quite a whisper but it does come close.

"Is this bye then?" Nook looks up at me sadly. I take a deep breath, obtaining my fill of the fresh country air.

"It is, for now at least." His honest brown eyes begin to water and, fearful of my own eyes doing the same, I kneel down to face him while I place a scratched hand onto one of his cold shoulders. "Nook, don't cry. Okay? We'll see each other again, it might be awhile until we do but it will happen. So no tears! I want to remember  
you happy!" I offer a smile and am rewarded with one. He quickly steals a brief hug and then takes a step back.

"You intend to go and see your adopted parents?" Grimm queries and I nod. "Is that wise, part-human?"

"Don't you know me at all Grimm? Of course it's not wise! It's a terrible idea that's probably going to land me right back in the Loony Bin, but I need to see them. A five minute explanation from them is worth ten years in the Loony Bin." I keep my smile in place, it will be better for Nook if I act confident.

"I doubt you will be allowed to spend ten years away in a Mental Asylum." Grimalkin says ominously.

"What do you mean?" I ask, voice rising in both volume and agitation, I point to Grimm madly. "Just say what yo mean for once cat!"

"Your trip to the NeverNever has likely not gone unnoticed. Even if it has, you still owe me a favour and I do not forget favours. Your actions will have consequences." Grimalkin warns.

"From what Peri said, you seem to have more favours than you know what to do with." I reply, trying to maintain my assured composure.

"I will collect, part-human. You have been warned, I am not the only person who knows of your existence now."

"Goodbye, Grimalkin. I'd say it was a pleasure but you're a rather irritating fleabag, you know that right?" Although I do mean what I say, I also say it with affection. I rather do like him.

"Part-human." He then trots off and vanishes before he even makes it into the nearest cluster of trees; his signature exit. How will Nook leave? I voice my confusion and Nook answers.

"Look, Olivia, right there." He points to a spot inches away from my feet. A small crack, almost invisible through the grass.

"I'll miss you Nook, take care until next time. Understand?" He nods and holds off the threatening tears.

"Goodbye, Olivia. And... good luck I guess." He gives me last smile before standing on the crack. A pause. Then Nook too is gone.

I turn to the direction of my old home. Deep breathes, I prepare myself. I need them to explain, to tell me the truth. I have been kidding myself if I ever believed that I was fine with them leaving me locked away. Why did they feel the need to abandon me after Cass's death? Do they truly think I am capable of murder? Only one way to find out: speak to them. Their answers may only make things worse, but I am tired of not knowing; being clueless and left guessing is torturous. I begin to make my way towards the mansion, with every step it's strange features become clearer; gargoyles gaining expressions and hanging baskets growing delicate flowers with pastel pink petals, most certainly of Carla's choosing.

I'll miss the Nevernever.

One foot in front of the other, repeat. Easy.

I'll miss all the friends I met there, like Peri and Nook. The scenery, the impossible!

One foot in front of the other, repeat. Easy.

I'll even miss Cook and Grimalkin. I'll miss the magic, the new experiences and the lack of insanity, or perhaps the abundance of it.

One foot in front of the other, repeat. Easy. Since when had anything ever been easy?

I look up at the front doors and rest my hand atop the brass knocker. I take one more deep breath, resolution swelling with the filling of my lungs.

One thing I know for certain: this conversation I am about to have will be nothing compared to the consequences to come.


	16. Epilogue

This small grouping of oak trees is the perfect hiding place; she can't see us but we can clearly see her. I chew on my left pinky finger, a habit of mine when I am lost in thought.

_Do I send word to Jack?_

Shuffle, SNAP!

"Loki!" I whisper angrily at my companion. He puts his hands up and mouths 'sorry', the effect of his apology somewhat ruined by the cheeky smirk that appears on his face afterward. Sigh. He never has been any good at being stealthy. Or even just being quiet. Shaking my head and rolling my eyes, I return to watching the girl; I assume Loki does the same.

Her hair hasn't changed at all, it is still the same lovely shade of brown and incredibly curly. Her face is recognizable, but obviously much more mature. Or perhaps I only think that her face looks the same because of her eyes? Her beautiful, familiar eyes, one a silvery grey and the other an amazing blue. Of course she has  
changed a lot from when I last remember seeing her; although that is only to be expected after so much time. Roughly twelve and a half human years I think. She is no longer an innocent, vulnerable child but a (relatively) mature and brave young woman. Possibly no longer my little Willow.

Her voices suddenly gets loud enough so that I tell she's annoyed about something, but not quite furious as she isn't shouting. I can't make out words; I can only hear her tone. She appears to making a point about something to Grimalkin and is gesturing wildly with her arms to do so.

I find myself suppressing a smirk. Still headstrong and argumentative too it seems.

_Do I send word to Jack?_

Minutes tick by without Loki creating any more irritating noises, and eventually both Grimalkin and the little injured looking goblin disappear back through the trod. Willow then starts purposely walking in the direction of the massive house; Loki seems to take this as his cue to speak.

"So... I don't know about you, but I feel like we really should do something about this." He defines 'this' by pointing to Willow's retreating back with a pale finger.

"Hmmm." I should go back to Winter and tell Mab, like I should have done when I'd first come across Willow in the Wyldwood, but loyalty holds me back. Jack's only hope of ever having his exile revoked is through returning Willow to Mab. An impossible task if Willow gets brought back by someone else before he can do anything about it. But, sigh. Do I trust Jack enough to let him return Willow to Winter? Would he hurt her?

"Well, aren't you going say something? Come to a decision perhaps? You're normally the one who does." Loki babbles on but I ignore him, something which I am good at thanks to years and years of intense practice.

My usually bone white pinky finger has turned red from my continued chewing. Is it best for Willow to return?

Smack!

THUD!

I send Loki to the leafy ground with one hard shove. How dare he slap me!

"Ow! Jeez, Flint! I was only trying to get a response out of you, there wasn't any need to try and kill me!" Loki huffs from the ground, but I give no sympathy and certainly no apology. Instead I cross my arms and wait for him to get back on his feet; he does slowly and with a lot more complaining. I raise an eyebrow and wait for him to shut up before I divulge my decision. After several more moments and me impatiently - and rather loudly - clearing my throat, he stops spouting irrelevant moans about how unfair I am.

"We tell Jack."

"What!? Ar- Are you sure?" Loki is clearly startled by my decision; I am too but I also have much experience at hiding my emotions so my face remains blank.

"Yes. This way everyone gains and no one gets hurt. Not Jack, not you, not me. And Mab gets what she desperately wants."

"Willow won't get what she wants." Loki reasons.

"We have no way of knowing what she wants."

"We could ask her." I don't even waste my time replying to this. I learned from a very young age that letting your decisions get influenced by your heart was a great way to get yourself into trouble. Obviously Loki has yet to learn this.

It is on this lesson that I have based my decision.

"Loki, we send word to Jack."

**Author's Note!**

**Awww, I am quite sad now that I have finished, it was like some form of therapy writing this! :(**

**Anyways, if you are reading this author's note then I am assuming that you have read the whole story. Thank you, thank you so very much! If you haven't read the whole story then may I ask why you are reading this now? An even bigger thank you to the people who have left me reviews, they made smile and were very encouraging!**

**I hope that you enjoyed Olivia's story, and I do have rough ideas for a sequel. By rough ideas I mean a place to start and a place to end, but absolutely nothing in between. Zilch. Blank page. Also, I want to add some other Iron Fey characters in if I write the sequel, but I'm rather scared of not being able to write them well and then I end up ruining the whole story. *Insert loud, angst filled sigh here.* Problems...**

** I haven't written out a plan or anything yet so it will probably be awhile until I actually begin writing it. Or maybe not if inspiration strikes, it just depends. There is also an equal chance of me doing a Grimalkin on you, so don't hold your breath.**

**I know I'll be lucky if even five people read this note, but I don't care; if you took the time to read my story then the way I see it the least I can do is give you a half decent thank you!**

**So, THANK YOU!**

**As always, I would really appreciate it you left a review! Please! It's the last chapter!**

**DayDreamerExtraordinaire :)**


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